


This is the Sign You've Been Looking For

by RebelRebel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, POV Rey (Star Wars), Soft Ben Solo, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-05-04 06:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14587212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelRebel/pseuds/RebelRebel
Summary: Rey Niima works in a salvage shop repairing broken neon signs.Renowned artist Kylo Ren buys alotof newly-repaired neon signs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Reylo fic, whew! Here we go. Written for the prompt, "In the Dark," from the Reylo Writing Den Discord Server and inspired by the song, "In the Dark" but Camila Cabello.

 

THIS IS THE SIGN YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR

Rey Niima snorted. Pulling out a rag, she carefully started wiping down the tubing on the neon sign emblazoned with the message. She appreciated a little sign humor.

Plus, it was a good find; all it needed was a little TLC. Then again, she hadn't tried plugging it in yet to see if it still worked.

Just as she was getting to some of the grimier bits, she heard the telltale tinkle of the shop's bell.

"Afternoon and welcome to Plutt Salvage, what can I help you with today?"

She hadn't meant to spit out her practiced spiel so quickly (at least hers was less oil-slicked than Unkar's), but she tended to get a little involved when it came to restoring these vintage signs. They'd lived a whole life before her; the least she could do is get them working again.

She probably should've at least _looked_ at the customer as he approached the shop counter, though.

"That, actually. Does it work?"

She looked up and dropped the rag.

The customer who'd come in was _very_ tall. And big.

"...What?" she asked.

She didn't seem to be in control of her eyes anymore; she was very rudely staring at the poor guy, whose generous ears were tinged a little pink underneath his curtain of black hair. He had one of those faces you couldn't help looking at; handsome, but in an unconventional way, with a prominent nose and full lips. His most noticeable feature, though, was definitely his dark, intense eyes.

Eyes staring right back at her.

"That sign you're cleaning. Does it work?" he asked. She blinked.

"I don't know yet, actually," she said, "I only found it last night; I was just about to test it."

Those eyes lit up.

"That would be great. It's exactly what I need if it works. Do you mind?"

"Of course not," she said, recovering enough to offer up a smile. He was still staring at her intently, but the sides of his lips quirked upwards a little.

"There's an outlet we can use just behind here," she said, jerking her thumb behind her.

She started to grab the sign so she could lift it down, but before she could even nudge the thing an inch, the man's ( _massive_ ) hands covered hers. The touch sent a jolt of electricity sizzling straight through her.

"Oh, sorry," he said, chewing the inside of his lip. He slid his hands away from hers, placing either one on the other side of the sign. "It's really big, do you need help lifting it?"

"I think I can manage," she said. The man pulled his hands back, stuffing them into the pockets of his dark, expensive-looking jeans.

She felt a little stupid for refusing the help — it _was_ heavy — but if Unkar came back, he'd be livid if he saw a customer helping her with merchandise. So, struggling a little, she hoisted the thing off of the counter and set it gingerly on the ground. She stayed down there, crouching so she could plug it into the wall.

She grinned back at the man when the bulbs flickered to life, casting a white-hot glow across the dark, dingy shop.

The man was actually smiling, now, too. Or, she thought it was a smile. He wasn't showing any teeth, but there were definitely dimples.

"Looks like you're in luck today, Mr. ...?" she asked.

"Solo. I mean, Ben. Ben Solo."

 

\--

 

The next time Ben Solo came into Plutt Salvage, Rey was surprised.

"Back already?" she asked him as he hurried through the front door.

This time, she wasn't behind the counter, but hanging her latest find in the window display, and it was raining buckets outside — she hadn’t expected any customers in weather this bad.

“Oh, hi,” he said, turning towards her. His dark hair was soaked and sticking to his high cheekbones.

“Bad day to be out,” she murmured wryly, peering out of the window. The sign she’d hung was perfect for a day like this; dark and moody, a bright, blazing cherry red in the summer storm.

“Yeah, a bit,” he agreed.

The dimples were back. Was he _teasing_ her?

Amusement seemed to dance in those endless eyes of his, but she was too unsure to tease back. Instead, she defaulted to customer service-friendly.

“How can I help you today?”

Was it just her, or did he look a little disappointed?

He cleared his throat, stepping a little closer to her still standing in the shop window. From up here, she was at his eye level.

“I came by to see if you had any more signs. Is it just this one?”

“We’ve got a few more in the back,” she said, climbing out of the window. Now she had to crane her neck to look at him properly, but it was hard to mind. “I haven’t had a chance to really take a good look at them yet, though. See if they’re in working order. They might need some tinkering.”

“I see,” he said, sweeping his hand through his hair so that it was out of his face.

“Opening a bar?” she asked, half-jokingly.

“Oh, um, no,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet. She opened her mouth to try and salvage the increasingly-awkward conversation, but he beat her to the punch.

“It’s for, well, this... art installation I’m working on. I’m sort of an artist.”

He looked so vulnerable at the admission that she felt a pang of something sad and sweet and aching in her chest.

“Only sort of?” she asked.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, looking back up at her.

“Seriously, that’s really awesome,” she said, smiling at him.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. His gaze was still on her, which made it hard to think.

For some reason.

Rey cleared her throat and glanced back at the sign in the window.

“So, interested?”

Surprise flickered across his face for a second, but then he eyed the sign before meeting her eyes again.

“Definitely.”

“Great,” she said, “If you don’t mind waiting a little bit, I can get it down and — ”

“Oh shit, I’m so stupid, you just hung it up — ”

“It’s fine, really,” she interrupted, trying to infuse her tone with a level of chill she was definitely _not_ actually feeling.

“Are you sure? I can come back another time if it’s more convenient.”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” she said. She glanced at the gale outside. “Though you may want to just so you don’t carry it home in this.”

His gaze followed hers.

“Good point,” he said. He seemed to relax a little, which helped ease some of her own anxiety.

“I’m calling it; you’ll come back tomorrow, and I'll have it ready for you.” She extended her hand. “Deal?”

He looked down at her offered hand, and for a second she thought she’d misread him completely, but then, he took it and shook. His palm engulfed hers.

“Deal,” he said, his non-smile lighting up his eyes.

She smiled back, and they both let their hands drop.

“Can I ask your name?”

“Oh, right! I’m Rey.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rey.”

 

\--

 

Tomorrow came too slow.

Despite her name, Rey was not a morning person. At all.

She also wasn't one to hum to herself while she walked to work a whole half an hour early, but then again, there was a first time for everything.

When she arrived at the storefront, she was surprised to see she wasn't the only one up early — Ben Solo was standing outside of the shop, a steaming cup of coffee in each hand, peering inside the window with a glum look on his face.

"Ben?"

He jumped nearly a foot back from the window, spilling a bit of dark liquid on his hand.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, rushing up to him. Wordlessly, she took the cups from him as he pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped off his hand. She stared at it; she'd never seen anyone carry one around before. It was even monogrammed with his initials.

"No, I'm sorry," he muttered, "I should've been paying more attention. I thought you opened at eight instead of nine."

"Lucky I got here early," she said. She smiled at him as she handed back the cups, but he only took the one in her right hand; the one he'd spilled.

"This one is for you," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up again, "I took a guess. Based on your accent."

"Oh," she replied, taken aback. She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip.

The tea was perfect, and Rey was definitely in trouble.

"Thank you," she said, smile widening, "Good guess. And you didn't have to; that was really sweet of you."

"Not at all," he said, "It's the least I could do, coming so early."

"Right! I'll open up," she said, carefully setting the tea down on the shop's stoop so she could unlock the door. She bent to pick the drink back up, but he'd already grabbed it for her. Blushing a little, she pushed her way inside, Ben following behind her.

"I've got the sign you were interested in wrapped and ready to go. I'm afraid I still haven't got the others I mentioned working just yet, but — "

"Rey," he interrupted. She settled herself behind the shop counter, trying not to think about how deep his voice sounded around the word.

"Yes?" she breathed. He was doing that thing again; where he seemed to be staring straight into her soul.

"Do you have...layaway?"

Rey blinked.

"What?" she asked. He glanced away and took a sip of his coffee before continuing.

"Sorry. Uh, layaway? Like, if I'm looking for a lot of signs like the ones you fix, is there a way for you to hold them for me? Or even notify me when you get something new in?"

"Oh!" she said, nodding, "Yes, definitely. Yes. We'd just need a way to — "

Before she could finish, he was already reaching into his pocket and handing her a scrap of paper with a phone number written in beautiful cursive on it.

"Thanks so much," he said, dimples reappearing. "I really appreciate it. You're — I mean, you have great stuff here."

Her face was uncomfortably hot, but she managed to smile like a normal human being. She hoped.

"Thank you. We, uh, appreciate your business. Now let's get that sign you wanted."

 

\--

 

Ben came to Plutt Salvage regularly after that; at least once a week, often more. Rey told herself it was because he was a serious artist dedicated to his craft and she was really good at finding and fixing broken neon signs.

It wasn't really relevant that she spent more time than she ever had scouring the city for signs she thought he'd like; she was just doing her job well. She was dedicated, like him. That was _all_.

 

\--

 

Unkar disliked Ben.

Then again, Unkar didn't really like anyone; he was a greedy, slimy opportunist who didn't see much value in other human beings aside from how much they carried in their wallets. He kept Rey around because he knew he could use her, and she had no illusions otherwise. A girl had to eat.

That being said, Unkar _really_ disliked Ben.

Rey couldn't definitively say why — she thought it was a combination of reasons: that Ben always made a beeline for her whenever he came in; that he was taller and stronger and altogether more physically imposing than Unkar; that he gladly ignored the shopowner as much as humanly possible unless the rules of polite society forced him to interact with the man (who he also clearly didn't care for).

Rey thought the main reason both men seemed to hate each other was their first meeting. It was a few days after Ben's third time in the shop, and he'd popped in just as Unkar was laying into her for daring to dust a few cobwebby items.

"What've I told you about touching the merchandise without me here, girl? Your grimy hands don't belong anywhere near the product unless you're fixing something or I say so, you got that? Unless you want to earn your keep a dirtier way — "

"Excuse me, _sir_ , but is that you how you talk to your staff?"

Neither Rey or Unkar had noticed Ben walk in, but they couldn’t miss his massive frame as he came to tower directly behind Unkar’s beefy (to put it kindly) figure, hands balled into fists at his sides. His tone was carefully polite, but his dark eyes were ice-cold.

Unkar turned to face him, drawing himself up to his full height. He was a relatively large man (both wide and tall), but he still barely came up to Ben’s chin.

He opened his wide mouth to reply but stopped short upon taking in Ben’s well-to-do appearance.

Rey could almost see the dollar signs in Unkar’s eyes as one of his unctuous smiles unfurled across his face.

“My apologies, sir, you shouldn’t have to hear me discipline my employees, however incompetent they are — "

“Rey has helped me on numerous occasions and provided stellar customer service,” Ben interrupted flatly. His eyes seemed like they could burn a hole in Unkar’s head.

“Not to mention, I haven’t been able to find anyone else in this entire city who’s as good at finding and repairing signage. I suggest you let her and I discuss her latest acquisition, or I’d be happy to take my business elsewhere. Come to think of it, maybe that salvage place near downtown needs an extra hand...”

Unkar’s smile suddenly looked a lot more like a grimace.

“Of course, sir. My apologies again. I’ll be at the counter if you need any more assistance, though as you said, I’m sure Rey will be able to help you find what you need.”

 

\--

 

Despite their disdain for each other, Unkar was forced to treat Ben with his usual sycophantic salesman schtick after seeing the books a month into Ben's patronage.

Ben Solo bought a _lot_ of newly-repaired neon signs.

 

\--

 

Nearly three months into knowing him, Rey had finally worked up the courage to ask Ben out on a date.

She was anxious about it, but she was going to do it. It seemed like he liked her at least enough for a casual outing. Those dimples said so.

She had it all planned out — he usually came in on Fridays with a cup of tea just the way she liked it, so this week she would turn her thank you into an invitation. She'd just ask him if he wanted to grab another cup together sometime... Anywhere other than Plutt Salvage.

Simple. Direct.

She could do it.

When he walked in on the day, though, she was too caught off-guard to spit out her planned greeting ("Hey, Solo.").

For one thing, he wasn't carrying the weekly tea he usually brought her. For another thing, he was moving toward her so fast that he was a literal blur until he stopped stock-still in front of the shop counter.

“Rey.”

It sounded like he was having a little trouble forcing her name out. His eyes were glued to a spot above her shoulder.

“Hi, Ben,” she said, smiling tentatively. She’d never seen him looking so ill at ease. “Did you want to — ?”

“I finished my installation,” he cut her off. He was clenching and unclenching his right fist.

“Oh!” she replied, heart sinking.

He was coming to tell her he wouldn’t be coming around here anymore. His work was finished. She felt a little sick at the realization of how much she was going to miss him.

“That’s — that’s great, Ben. Congratulations.”

She got the words out, then inhaled sharply as he looked down at his clenched fist. It was now or never; the worst he could say was no —

“I wanted to invite you to the opening.”

The words fell out of his mouth so fast it took her a second to process what he’d said. But he was holding out a folded up piece of paper, and she took it, and her brain finally caught up.

“You know, only if you want to,” he said, looking away from her again. His ears — usually hidden underneath that lustrous hair of his — were poking out just a little; she could see they were a bit pink again.

Her heart skipped a beat when she realized she hadn’t answered him.

“Of course! Sorry, you just... Slow morning. I mean, I’d love to come.”

It was the first time she’d seen him smile, _really_ smile, with teeth and everything. It was an endearing, crooked sort of smile that made her think, not for the first time, that she might really be in some serious trouble.

 

\--

 

“You’ve got it _bad_.”

“Shut it, you.”

Rey was nervous, and Finn knew it.

“Oi! Pointing out the obvious, Peanut. If I can tell, he can probably tell, too.”

“You’re not helping, Finn!”

They were outside the entrance to Ben’s show at a funky warehouse downtown (of course), and Rey was struggling not to fuss with her skirt or her hair or anything within fidgeting distance. She’d brought Finn along for emotional support and to act as a buffer, but so far, he was just making her more nervous.

“Rey, hey, it’s going to be fine. This Ben guy invited you; he wants you here. From what you’ve said, I’ve no doubt he’s already madly in love with you,” said Finn, looping his arm with hers.

Rey smiled.

“Thanks, Finn.”

“You’re welcome, gorgeous. Now let’s go.”

Once inside the building, they had to pause to join the queue waiting to get into the main exhibit. A sign was posted off to the left of the set of nondescript doors that lead into the show.

 

IN THE DARK  
_An Exploration of Light_  
_An exhibition from acclaimed artist Kylo Ren_

 

“Shit, Rey, you didn’t tell me Ben was actually Kylo Ren!” whispered Finn emphatically as they moved closer to the entrance.

“I didn’t know,” she muttered, “Is he pretty well-known?”

“Yes!” hissed Finn, “He’s, like, international!”

Rey couldn’t reply — she didn’t know what to say, anyway — as they were finally shuffled through the doors into the exhibition.

It was dark. _And_ bright.

Everywhere they looked, there was electric neon — on the walls, the floor, the ceiling. It was a kaleidoscope of color; a literal maze of light in the darkness that had them following a narrative that Rey thought was sad, somehow. Sad, but hopeful.

“This is amazing,” whispered Finn. They didn’t follow the crowd; there wasn’t really a crowd to follow. The whole exhibit was experiential in such a way that the labyrinth of light was made by the person who walked it; it was up to them which signs they chose to follow.

Eventually, Rey drifted down a darker path than Finn, who gravitated toward passages bursting with riots of color.

Rey loved all of it, but she wanted to see the darkness, as well as the light.

She meandered down a hallway by herself, careful not to get too close to any of the signs. She knew they’d be hot to the touch, and she doubted it was appropriate. There were less down this way, anyway, making each of the individual messages shine that much brighter.

She wasn’t surprised when she saw Ben standing in front of the first one she’d sold him.

THIS IS THE SIGN YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR

He smiled when she came to stand next to him, gazing at the hazy white light.

“Rey,” he murmured, “You came.”

“It’s beautiful, Ben. Really.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, inclining his head toward her. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She smiled wryly.

“Somehow I think you would’ve managed,” she said, “But I appreciate it.”

“I mean it.”

A few moments passed in companionable silence until he turned toward her; drawing closer.

“What made you come down this way?”

Rey angled her body toward his. Her throat was dry, but she barely noticed. She couldn’t stop staring at the way the light from the sign cast long shadows on his face.

“I wanted to see what was in the dark,” she whispered, stepping as close to him as she dared. “The scary parts.”

“Is darkness so scary?” he asked, voice low. He was so close now that it was easy for him to raise a hand and tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

She shivered.

“Not when I'm with you.”

He smiled that crooked smile of his, and Rey decided to turn that smile into a kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo wasn't often surprised. As someone who relied heavily on routine in his everyday life, he didn’t really like surprises. 
> 
> Until Rey kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing with this story, which is new for me. Yet here we are!

 

Ben Solo wasn't often surprised. As someone who relied heavily on routine in his everyday life, he didn’t really like surprises. 

Until Rey kissed him.

She’d stood on her toes just to reach him, and then her lips were pressing his and he couldn't seem to think about anything else except for her — soft and small and warm and pretty and kissing him.

Too soon, she broke away, and without thinking, he scowled at the loss of contact.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry, I thought — " she started, taking a step back and looking at her feet. Ben's eyes widened as he realized she thought his scowl meant something else entirely.

With embarrassing urgency, he closed the distance between them and blurted out the first thing that popped into his head; words he instantly regretted.

"Want to get out of here?"

This time, it was Rey's eyes that widened. He winced.

"I mean, do you want to leave and maybe, I don't know, go grab something to eat?"

She smiled, and his heart stopped threatening to explode out of his chest.

"I would," she agreed, "But I actually brought a friend with me. I'd hate to abandon him."

"Oh, right, of course," he said. He ran a hand through his hair; it was a bad habit of his, especially when he didn't know what to do with his hands. She was still standing so close to him. 

At his reply, she seemed a little put out, so he continued on, still unable to stop staring at her.

"She could always come, too. I'd love to meet a friend of yours."

"Oh!" she said, sounding surprised. She absently tugged on the sleeve of her shirt. "That could work. It's a he, by the way. Finn. My friend."

"Oh."

He didn't like the sound of that, regardless of whether or not she'd just kissed him. Maybe she was already regretting it. He wouldn't blame her; not really.

"He's like my brother," she continued, "We've known each other since we were kids. We both came to the States for college." 

He continued to stare at her, unsure what to say.

"That's — "

A loud PING cut him off, and she pulled a phone out of her pocket.

"Oh!" she said. Surprise, pleasure, and irritation all seemed to war with each other on her face. He couldn't help but notice the adorable way she wrinkled her nose when she was annoyed. He'd seen her do it a few times before; always when that ass Unkar Plutt was around. 

"What is it?"

"It's Finn. He just texted saying that his girlfriend wants to meet up, and if I'm all right to get home on my own."

She looked back up at him then, beaming. 

"Do you like noodles?"

 

\--

 

Ever since Ben had met Rey, he'd been enamored with her. At first, it'd been her smile — it was like a literal ray of sunshine in the dusty, gloomy store she worked in. Just like her.  

And that's how the infatuation grew, he supposed. There was just something about her; so bright and sharp and funny amongst all that dreariness.

(Not like him at all.)

She probably hadn't realized it, but his latest installation was largely inspired by her. He hadn't meant for it to be that way; it just sort of  _happened._  The signs she'd procured for him told their own story, an insistent one: of finding light in the darkness. 

He felt boyish and awkward and humbled just being around her. Even when she was noisily slurping noodles like they were her last meal.

"Good?"

She nodded, tipping the bowl to her mouth to drink the remains of the broth. He hadn't made much progress on his own bowl; too intent on watching her.

When she finished, she looked back at him, smiling an embarrassed sort of smile. 

"Sorry, I'm such a messy eater."

"Not at all," he murmured. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"Liar."

He chuckled and raised his own fork to his mouth, carefully taking a bite. He tried not to pay too much attention to the way her eyes watched his mouth move.

"Maybe a little," he teased her after swallowing, "But they are really good."

"I love this place," she said, leaning back against the red plastic of her chair. She sighed, lazily, clearly sated. "Maz makes a great bowl of pho. And it's cheap." 

"Do you come here a lot?" he asked.

"Yup," she said, patting her flat stomach and grinning at him. "But it's my secret noodle spot. Don't go telling too many arty, hipster snobs. God knows how quickly they'd descend on a place like this."

Ben snorted into his bowl of soup. She was undeniably right — that was just how L.A. worked, particularly when it came to hole-in-the-wall restaurants with any charm, which this place had in spades. 

"What makes you think I know those kinds of people?" She smirked.

"Kylo Ren doesn't know anybody like that?" she asked.

"He definitely does," he agreed, pushing his half-eaten bowl away. She eyed it with interest, and he smiled.

"Go ahead, if you want." Her eyes snapped back to his.

"Nah. We'll get a to go box before we leave." 

"Rey."

Her name poured out of his lips before he could seem to think about what he was going to say.

"Yes?" she asked.

He chewed the inside of his cheek (another bad habit), steepling his fingers together, still staring at her. She was motionless, her hands now flat on the table.

"Why did you kiss me?"  

The words came out hushed, and a lot deeper than he'd intended, but that just seemed to cause even more color to paint her pretty cheeks.

"I wanted to," she said, hazel eyes challenging his. 

He meant to reply, to say  _something_ , but instead, he let his gaze catalog all of her: her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth, that long expanse of sunkissed neck...

"I'm sorry," she said, clearly, "I thought you — " 

An alarm went off in his head.

"Don't be sorry," he said, grabbing her hand tightly, then loosening his grip just as quickly. The electric shock that had gone through his fingers at the touch had gone straight to his brain; he wasn't sure what it was about her, about  _them_ , but she made him possessive in a primal sort of way that was both exhilarating and slightly terrifying. "Not unless you regret it." 

"Of course I don't regret it," she said. Her eyes were still locked on his. She intertwined their fingers. "When you asked me to come to your show, at first I thought you were trying to tell me that you wouldn't be coming around the shop anymore. That made me sad." 

"Why?" 

"I'd miss you," she said, bluntly, as if he was being stupid. He probably — no, definitely was.

"I was planning on asking you to grab a coffee or something," she continued, looking down at their hands. "But you sort of beat me to the punch."

"Right," he agreed. He lifted her hand in his, trailing a finger down her impossibly small wrist. She seemed to like that; her lips parted slightly at the sensation, and her eyes seemed to get a little darker when she raised them to his again.

"I'm glad you kissed me," he said, throatily, glancing down at her wrist again as he spoke, still barely brushing her skin with his fingertips. "It saved me the trouble of having to try and figure out if  _I_  should kiss  _you_."

In the space of a breath, she cleared her throat and grabbed  _his_  wrist, tightly. He met her gaze. Her eyes were even darker, and she was looking at him like he was his half-eaten bowl of soup. Arousal coiled deep in his gut just at that. 

"Want to get out of here?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I don't really have a fully-formed idea of where this is going. I have some ideas, but I'm still working on the rest.
> 
> That being said, who's up for a rating bump in Chapter 3? ;)
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wicked grin split her face.
> 
> "Truth or dare?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm notching this baby up to Explicit for safety. Also, I plan to update this story bi-weekly, alternating weeks with my other WIP (a Japanese-inspired Fantasy/Arranged Marriage AU, if you're interested!) I wish I could say I know how long this story is going to be, but I'm still working through it. Anyway, onward!

 

After paying for the bill, awkwardly climbing into the backseat of their Lyft driver’s Honda Accord (very careful to not touch each other), and making stilted, short conversation the whole 30-minute ride there, they arrived.  

Rey looked up at the building in awe.

“Do you like it?”

She looked at Ben, who towered next to her in the L.A. dusk. He was gazing down at her with that shy smile again, too-large hands stuffed into his jean pockets.

She grinned back.

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t what I expected.”

“Oh?” he asked, arm brushing against her shoulder, “What’d you expect?”

She looked back up at the historic brick building, eyeing the olive green terra cotta trim around the entrance; the gold inlay; the stained glass windows twinkling jewel-bright in the twilight from the lobby floor. 

“More... Chrome, if I’m honest.”

Ben chuckled, sweeping a hand through his dark hair. 

“Thanks, I guess?”

“You bet,” she said. She held his gaze, uncomfortably aware of her own body — clammy hands, toe-tapping noisily on the pavement, heart racing.

He didn’t seem to be doing much better than her, but she thought she could only see it because she’d grown to know him a little better. She recognized the signs: chewing the inside of his cheek, pink-tipped ears, continuously raking his hands through that hair of his.

But, he was smiling. Nervously, sure, but with teeth. At her.

“So, are we going up for the grand tour?”

She tried and failed to sound at ease. She’d settle for way too excited. At least he wouldn’t doubt her enthusiasm.  

"Um, yeah, sure," he said, looking at the front door instead of her face. His ears got even pinker.

"Let's go," she said, grabbing his forearm and pulling him in with her. 

The lobby was as historic as the exterior; all exposed brick and black-and-white checkered tile floors, with ornately-framed mirrors on the walls and Edison bulbs dangling overhead in wrought-iron chandeliers. Rey let Ben's arm drop as she glanced around. He moved past her, toward dual elevators beyond the aging doorman, who nodded congenially at them as they passed.

"Mr. Ren," he said, tipping his hat. 

Ben just nodded back, quickly darting forward to thumb the up button. 

"What floor do you live on?" Rey asked, coming to stand next to him. 

"Four," answered Ben. The elevator dinged, and the doors swished open. They both stepped inside, and Rey glanced at him again. In the dark of the elevator, his eyes looked liquid in their blackness, and it was all she could do to breathe normally. Butterflies seemed to be flying from her stomach straight into her throat.

They didn't speak, just pretended that they weren't sneaking peeks at each other. After a few long moments, the elevator door dinged again, signaling their arrival. Swallowing hard, Ben reached for her, intertwining her hand with his massive one.

"It's just down the hall." 

His voice was quiet. Rey let him lead her down the hallway until they stopped in front of a concrete door adorned with the number 429.

He let go of her hand to unlock the door, then opened it wide for her. She took a few tentative steps inside, wanting to take it all in; to see exactly how he lived. 

It was surprisingly sparse, and small, though not nearly as small as her shoebox-sized studio. The building had clearly been remodeled recently; she doubted this airy loft existed when the building was built in the early 1900s.

The bright windows and exposed brick were remnants of the past, but the upper level had to be new, as well as the immaculate concrete floor. For an artist, he'd barely decorated apart from the standard furniture: couch, coffee table, a few chairs. The kitchen was modern, too; all black and stainless steel. 

She'd bet her bottom dollar that his bed was in the loft. She itched to climb the stairs to see for herself, but —

"What do you think?"

Ben's voice was closer than she expected; hovering just behind her. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine as she turned to face him again, having to crane her neck.

"It's nice," she said appreciatively. 

"Not what you expected?" he asked.

"Still no," she admitted.

He seemed to read her meaning, his eyes leaving hers to survey his own space.

"I also rent the studio next door," he explained, "That's where I work. It's a lot more... Lived in, over there."

"Ahhh," she said, tapping her forehead in her best impression of the Roll Safe guy. Ben chuckled. 

Rey meandered toward the couch, twirling just a little. Maybe she was a tiny bit giddy that she'd made him laugh. Again.

"So, what now?" she asked, perching on the brown leather. She crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands in her lap.

Ben hadn't moved. He was just watching her from the doorway. Panic gripped her for a second — had she done something? Barged in too quickly? — until he followed her lead, taking a spot on the other end of the couch.

"A game?" he offered. He didn't smile, but the sides of his mouth seemed to tip upward. 

Rey smiled back, smoothing her skirt.

"Sure," she said, "What kind of game? I'll warn you now; I'm not into Monopoly."

He scrunched his nose in distaste. It was definitely one of the top five cutest faces she'd ever seen on a grown man, and she was best friends with Finn — arguably the cutest man alive. 

"Me either," he agreed, "No creativity."

"How about Truth or Dare?" she asked, angling her body so she faced him, legs curling to her side.

"Hmm," he said, eyes intent on her face as his body mirrored her. He was so large that his knees almost knocked into hers. 

She was fairly certain that her heart literally skipped a beat, but it was hard to care even if her body was malfunctioning.

"Okay. You start." 

A wicked grin split her face.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth," he said, smoothly.

"Why do you go by Kylo Ren?" she asked.

She'd expected him to answer easily, but he didn't — instead, he looked away, and that same panic from before threatened to steal her breath. 

"I'm sorry, I — "

"Oh, no, it's fine," he said, looking back at her with a small, somewhat pained smile. "I should've expected that you'd ask me that. I wasn't thinking."

Rey didn't reply, waiting for him to continue and watching, carefully.

"I never legally changed my name from Ben Solo, but I took the moniker when I got into the art scene. Years ago."

His answer didn't seem worthy of the reaction he'd had, but she didn't want to press him further, so she just nodded.

"Your turn."

"Truth or dare?" he asked. His dimples were back, which helped her breathe easy again.

"Dare," she said, boldly. 

His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Damn," he murmured, "I didn't think you'd go for a dare so soon. Um... can I owe you a dare? I've got nothing."

She nodded, trying to disguise her slight disappointment.

"You've got to work on your game, Solo. But sure. Truth, then."

He opened and closed his mouth.

"I'll do my best," he replied. "Truth... Hmm. Why do you work at Plutt Salvage?"

"Good question," she said, dryly. "Because I'm good at finding and fixing things, I guess."

"But you're so smart," he insisted, leaning forward, "Working for that... man seems — "

"I wouldn't say it's a career," Rey admitted, wryly, "It's just a job. When Finn and I came to the U.S. for college, I studied mechanical engineering. I needed to work to put myself through school."

"Are you still going?" he asked. 

"It's — on hold," she said, lamely. It was her turn to look away. His intense eyes were searching, and she wasn't sure she could stand up to the scrutiny.

"I didn't mean to pry," he said, softly. She met his gaze.

"Don't worry about it," she said, trying to infuse some brightness into her tone. "That's the game. And that was two truths! I think that means you have to pick dare now."

His eyes widened, and she couldn't help but notice that he bit the inside of his cheek again. 

"All right," he agreed, "Dare." 

"I dare you to..." she started, watching him watch her; his eyes kept leaving hers to look at the rest of her.

"...Break out into your cheesiest smile. I'll take a picture, and then you have to post it on social media."

Again, surprise washed over his face, but he managed to remain mostly stoic. If she wasn't used to noting the way his lips moved or how his eyes lit up when he wanted to laugh, she might not have noticed. 

"You're serious?" he asked, completely deadpan.

"Yup!" 

"What's the penalty for refusing a dare?" he asked, inching slightly closer to her. Excitement coiled deep in her belly, and she clutched a bit of her skirt in her right hand, still smiling.

"Do you really want to find out?" she asked, sweetly.

He considered for half a beat too long; long enough that she wondered if he'd say yes, and then she'd have to figure out a real punishment —

But then, he spoke.

"All right, all right," he agreed, "Are you going to take the picture?"

"Of course," she said, whipping out her battered, generations-old mobile, frowning slightly.

"Shit, I forgot my camera is broken. Can I use yours?" 

"Sure," he said, handing over what she was pretty sure was the newest-looking iPhone she'd ever seen outside of an Apple Store.

She pulled up the camera and pointed it at him.

"All right, Solo, let's see that smile."

He rolled his eyes at her, but then broke into the biggest shit-eating grin she'd ever seen into her entire life.

She howled; barely able to actually take the photo, her hand was shaking so hard, but she managed. It came out a little blurry, but she had what she wanted: photographic proof that Ben Solo, in fact, did know how to smile like an idiot. Still laughing, she gazed at the picture fondly, taking in his crinkled eyes, crooked mouth, full lips...

"I should tell you, I don't have any social media," he said, ears pink again as she stared, fixated, at the picture of him on her phone.

"Cheater," she giggled, "Well, I'll let it pass. This time. Though I'm sure there are social media-savvy art snobs out there using #KyloRen. Maybe I'll just download Instagram and — "

Without any warning, he slid his entire body across the couch, snatching the phone back. In the process, his body crowded her; long legs butting up against hers, massive paw wrapped around her wrist; face only inches away from her own.

Her only thought while he effectively invaded her personal space just to avoid an embarrassing photo being uploaded to the Internet was how good he smelled. 

Like...the woods. Trees; tall and dark and foreboding, just like him. Shelter from the rain; earthy and fresh and dark.

“Don’t worry, you’re more photogenic than you think,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his pale throat, but he didn’t move away, and he didn’t let go of her wrist — though he did loosen his grip, letting it rest in his palm. He didn't seem to know where to put his other hand; he'd used it to fling his phone behind him, but he settled for resting it on his thigh.

"Truth, or dare?" he asked. His voice (so low) was doing things to her. Things she'd be embarrassed to remember later when she possessed enough coherent thought to analyze the evening.

"Truth," she murmured. She was afraid that if she spoke any louder, she'd somehow break this spell; Ben would realize she was a nobody and he was a somebody and he'd stop looking at her the way he was looking at her now...

"Mmm," he hummed, glancing down at her wrist in his grip, gently rubbing a thumb along one of her veins, "Would you really have missed me, if I stopped coming to the shop?"

The burning feeling in her belly softened, slightly, turning into something sad and sweet — even though desire still simmered underneath. 

"Yes," she said. When he didn't meet her eyes, even after she answered, she continued. "Ben..."

He raised his eyes to hers, then, and there was a profound sadness in them that broke her heart, just a little. 

"It's your turn."

She let out a shaky breath. 

"You owe me a dare."

His thumb paused over the arch of her wrist, and his eyes flickered over her face again, landing on her lips. She knew he knew what she wanted.

Carefully — so painfully carefully — he raised his free hand to her face, cupping her cheek with a trembling palm. His hand was so large that it covered the entire right side.

"Kiss me again."

 

\--

 

He felt stupid saying the words, awkward and worried that he’d read this evening all wrong — his greatest fear in the few seconds after he’d spoken was that she would call him a disgusting asshole and bolt.

She didn’t. She just leaned forward and kissed him. Soft, sweet, slow. She must’ve applied some sort of flavored lip balm after the show; she tasted like a heady mixture of mint and honey that made his head spin and his heart thunk loudly against his chest.

He couldn’t think of anything else to do except kiss her back. 

He curled his hand against her cheek, pulling her closer, closer. She let out a soft whimper, sending a painful throb down his gut and into his groin. The noise alone had him hard already, and before he knew what was happening, she'd swung one of her long legs over his lap and straddled him, caging him tightly between her thighs.

He was agonizingly aware of her hovering over him; soft heat grinding down onto his erection, making him gasp into her mouth. She took the opportunity to gently run her tongue over his lips before deepening the kiss. 

He was experiencing severe sensory overload: she was everywhere and everything — her hands were in his hair, nails raking along his scalp; her tongue was insistent against his; one of his hands was on her thigh, thumb circling under her skirt toward her center but never touching, only teasing (did she like that? It sounded like she did); his other hand gripped her waist, maybe harder than he should but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from pressing her even closer so that she was nearly flush against him. His lips left hers to graze the expanse of her throat, and her whimpers turned into moans as he tasted her skin.

"I take dares very seriously," she murmured in his ear, her breath sending a near-violent shiver down his spine. He gripped her thigh tighter; his hand spanning the entire width. He choked out a chuckle against her neck, though, to his ears, it came out more like some sort of ancient, animalistic grunt.

She laughed, and then — it had to be on purpose — ground down on the bulge in his jeans, making a mewling sound that forced his breath to come in and out in shuddering gasps.

And then she was kissing him again; holding his face in her hands, playfully nipping at his bottom lip and it was  _perfect_ ; he loved every second; he never wanted her anywhere else; always here, with him,  _his_  Rey...

But, he also hated himself. Because they had to stop. He had to stop. Now.

He raised his hands to cover hers, then gently pushed her away. In the glow from the kitchen, her eyes looked darker than their usual hazel; almost black. 

“Ben?” she asked. He cleared his throat, brushing fingertips down the side of her neck; through her tousled hair.

“I should take you home.” 

 

\--

 

She didn’t let him take her home, but he did get her to agree to him paying for her Lyft. He could tell she was disappointed even though she kissed him goodnight, sweet as ever, after he said he’d call her. 

Once she was gone, he barreled into his bathroom, stripped off his clothes and jumped into a lukewarm shower. He was too weak for a cold one; instead, he wasted no time in fisting himself roughly, thinking of Rey — her eyes, her lips, pulled into a pretty pink pout... Those same lips on his, or better yet, wrapped around his cock... Then just her, wrapped around him, writhing and making those whimpering sounds she’d made earlier as he made her climax around him — again and again and again...

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t last long. Ropes of his cum covered the shower stall and he slowed; finally stopping, still breathing hard.

Cold shame trickled down his spine the same as the water. Getting himself off had barely done anything to cease the unbearable ache he felt when he so much as thought about Rey; it was a shallow comparison to having her just grind on him, let alone actually fucking her.

But he couldn’t just fuck her. For a lot of reasons — for one thing, he didn’t want to just fuck her; far from it.

For another thing, he didn’t know  _how_  to fuck her. At 29 years old, he’d never fucked anyone. He’d done other things (he doubted well, either); but it wasn’t the same. What would she think once she realized? 

He thought he knew the answer, but he didn’t want to face it. His virginity wasn’t the worst secret he was keeping from her, but it was definitely the most embarrassing. Everything else he could avoid, but this? 

He didn’t see how, and he knew couldn’t, anyway.

Face hot, he stumbled out of the shower, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist before trudging up the stairs to his lofted bedroom.

He collapsed on the bed, body suddenly bone-tired. Vaguely, he remembered that his show had opened today.

Maybe he could be honest with Rey. He knew he had to be, if he wanted a real shot with her. Maybe she’d understand. If anyone could, it would be her, and he didn’t doubt that she genuinely liked him. ...For now.

He’d call her. He’d ask her out on a real date, and he’d tell her the truth, at least about this. If she rejected him, or laughed at him (at the thought, he felt that same burning, sickening shame)... 

Well, he’d move on. He didn’t need anyone. He’d proven that. 

(Hadn’t he?)

Decision made, he groaned, rubbing his face, before turning over and drifting off into a fitful sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, probably not quite what you expected when I said I was upping the rating, but we'll get there. Trust. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone for their amazing support in the form of kudos, comments, bookmarks, and subscriptions! It's seriously so inspiring; the Reylo community is just fantastic. Thank you. If I can implore you to keep it up, well... ;)
> 
> (Seriously, I'd appreciate your feedback! Comments bring me life.)
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rey.” 
> 
> The desperation was worse, now, and she had to hold back a cringe. This was the worst dumping (was it even a dumping?) she’d ever had. It shouldn’t hurt this bad, but it did. She wanted to cry; she wanted to run away from him, but she didn’t. She’d let him do it first. She just wished he’d hurry up and get it over with.
> 
> “Rey, please look at me.”
> 
> \--
> 
> In which our two awkward kiddos are still awkward, but Ben tries to be adult about all this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! My family vacation halted my productivity with poor, poor Internet service. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy these two awkward lovebirds and all of their internal musings about each other. This is definitely more of heavy internal monologue chapter but considering where we left off, it needed it.

Rey wasn't sure she'd ever monitored her phone so closely.

 

It was a little pathetic if she was honest with herself. She'd spent the whole morning glancing at the damn thing, afraid she'd get caught looking at it under the shop counter but also worried she'd miss a call or a text from Ben.

 

He'd said he would call, and it hadn't even been 24 hours. She was officially obsessing. 

 

She couldn’t help it — after he’d abruptly ended their not-date last night, she was feeling increasingly self-conscious. She’d never been with a guy who’d purposefully stopped things from getting to the next level. He hadn’t really given her a reason, either... Why hadn’t she asked?

 

Tendrils of paranoia closed around her throat, and she swallowed, thickly. She sniffed; dust mites sparkling in the sun streaming through the store window. Thankfully, the shop was dead — though, to be fair, their clientele mainly consisted of Ben and the occasional straggler looking for something specific. 

 

It wasn’t that Rey thought it was a genius idea for them to immediately jump into bed together, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wanted him last night. If he hadn’t stopped them, she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have, either. 

 

Did he just want to take things slow? Ben was older... He probably had a lot more experience dating than she did, so maybe he figured taking things slow was for the best.

 

Despite her reasoning, she still felt like she had a lead weight in her gut; she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d done something wrong. Was there something wrong with her? That seemed a lot more likely than Ben wanting to take things slow when he could’ve...

 

She drummed her fingers on the top of the counter, the nervous rhythm echoing throughout the stale shop. Again, she glanced at her phone.

 

Nothing.

 

Maybe he could _tell_  she was fairly inexperienced. She’d only dated a few people; slept with even less, and nothing ever serious. Or _good_ , if she was really honest. The idea of him being turned off because she’d bumbled her way through an impromptu makeout session made her want to hurl herself into the ocean. Or willingly get stranded in the desert without any water.

 

Cold certainty seemed to settle into her bones, and she clutched her phone under the countertop, thumbing the keys. 

 

That was it, wasn’t it? He was being nice when he said he’d call, and she’d made a complete fool out of herself the second she kissed him again — 

 

Rey was forcibly removed from her chilly realization when she heard the telltale tinkle signaling someone entering the shop. She cleared her throat, and looked up from the counter to see _Ben_.

 

He was hovering at the door, gazing at her from across the shop, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

 

Her stomach seemed to turn over.

 

“Hi,” she said. Her voice sounded horrible to her own ears; somehow throaty and shrill at the same time.

 

“Hi,” he said. He crossed the length of the room, his long strides landing him in front of her in the space of a few breaths.

 

He placed both of his huge hands on the counter, palm sides down. She looked at her own hands, not wanting to see those eyes of his when he broke things off with her before they even really started. 

 

Because why else would he be here, if not to tell her she was a stupid kid playing at romance? 

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

She couldn’t get her voice to stop sounding strange. 

 

“I realized I didn’t have your number, just the shop’s,” he rushed out. There was something in his voice, too; a thinly-veiled desperation that made her want to meet his eyes, but she didn’t. 

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

She waited for him to keep talking, but he just... _stopped_. Still, she kept her gaze pointedly down.

 

“Rey.” 

 

The desperation was worse, now, and she had to hold back a cringe. This was the worst dumping (was it even a dumping?) she’d ever had. It shouldn’t hurt this bad, but it did. She wanted to cry; she wanted to run away from him, but she didn’t. She’d let him do it first. She just wished he’d hurry up and get it over with.

 

“Rey, please look at me.”

 

She bit her lip, and forced herself to look at him. She didn’t really want to, but it was hard to ignore his pleading tone.

 

Admittedly, he didn’t look good. Well, that wasn’t strictly true — he always looked effortlessly handsome in his own dark, soft but somehow incredibly masculine way — but he had dark shadows under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well, and his hair was disheveled, like he’d been constantly running his hands through it.

 

“I need to apologize, Rey, I shouldn’t have — ”

 

Her heart was lodged in her throat, but she cut him off anyway, cheeks burning a bright red.

 

“It’s okay, Ben. You didn’t need to come all the way down here to break whatever this... _thing_ between us is off. I’m a big girl. You could’ve just called. We can... we can go back to being just friends, if you’re — ”

 

“What?” he asked, “No, Rey, that’s not why I’m here at all. That’s not what I want, not at all.”

 

Her mouth snapped shut. He grasped her hand, slightly wild-eyed, and she felt so, so _stupid_.

 

“I was coming to apologize about last night,” he continued, “I should’ve been... Well, clearer. I... wanted to talk to you about it, about, um, us. Tonight. On a real date, if you’re available.”

 

“Oh...” she said. Her brain felt foggy; she shook her head to try and clear her thoughts.

 

“So, what do you say?” he asked, squeezing her hand. 

 

Thankfully, she managed a yes.

 

\--

 

Ben was finally breathing. 

 

Anxiety still coursed through his veins like alcohol; a heady drug that set his heart pumping blood through his body at too fast a pace, but at least he could breathe. In and out, in and out.

 

She’d said yes. 

 

Rey had actually agreed to go out with him and talk about what was going on with them.

Sure, he was terrified to tell her the truth — or, more accurately, one of the truths he was keeping from her — but it still felt like a small victory that she’d agreed at all, especially after he’d clearly confused her. To think she’d actually thought he was going to break things off...

 

Ben shook his head at the idea, sucking in another breath as he sat in traffic. Plutt Salvage wasn’t too far away from his loft, but that was L.A. — there was always traffic.

 

Just as he started to rack his brain for places to take Rey that evening, his phone rang. Since he was at a full stop, he answered it without checking to see who was calling.

 

“Where the fuck did you disappear yesterday?”

 

The sterile, clipped voice of Armitage Hux met Ben’s ears, and he grimaced.

 

“That’s none of your business, Hux.”

 

“The hell it isn’t,” Hux argued, his nasal tone seeming to punch through Ben’s eardrum. If the car in front of him hadn’t just started moving again, he would’ve put him on speakerphone. Hux hated when Ben put him on speakerphone.

 

“You’ve got no right to know anything about my personal life, Hux. I had to leave. The show was nearly over, anyway. It’s done.”

 

“Unfortunately for you, it is _not_ done,” sniffed Hux, “I arranged for several prominent buyers, curators, and critics to meet you after the show. You knew this, and yet you just up and left, Ren. It was incredibly unprofessional and I had to cover for you.”

 

“Did we lose any money? Are they writing a bad review? What exactly are the repercussions of this?” Ben asked, cutting straight through Hux’s bullshit. He already knew the answer.

 

He was proven right when Hux hesitated.

 

“Well, no — but that is beside the point, Ren — ”

 

“I don’t see how. Snoke has lost no profit, and my reputation stands. I missed one meeting.”

 

“Snoke isn’t pleased,” Hux continued, actually angry now. Ben could hear it in the way his voice got even higher. 

 

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Hux. It happened. It’s over.”

 

“You can tell me that you won’t do anything like that again, because next time I won’t be making your excuses to Snoke. You know he doesn’t — ”

 

“Yeah, sure, Hux.” Ben hung up, tossing his phone onto the seat next to him.

 

He didn’t have the patience for a conversation with Hux, and he definitely didn’t want to think about Snoke. If he was going to lay all of his cards on the table tonight with Rey, he needed to get himself together. 

 

He could do it. He _wanted_ to. Rey deserved that much. 

 

He let out a shaky breath, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. 

 

Traffic was finally picking up, anyway, and he all but floored it home.

 

\--

 

Later that evening, Ben waited outside the restaurant where he and Rey had agreed to meet. For some reason she’d refused to have him pick her up, but he didn’t press the issue. It was more than enough for him that she agreed to go out with him again at all.

 

Nervously, he looked at his own reflection in the restaurant window, trying and failing to smooth out his always-unkempt hair. He jumped when he heard a car door slam behind him.

 

He turned, worried Rey had just pulled up, but thankfully another couple was exiting their Uber and heading toward the restaurant. He breathed out a big sigh of relief, his hands twitching at his sides.

 

“Oh, you didn’t need to wait for me outside.”

 

Ben pivoted on one heel, feeling huge and ridiculous. Per usual.

 

Rey was walking toward him, looking absolutely stunning in a bright yellow sundress that highlighted her tan skin and long legs.

 

Ben tried not to stare too hard, but it felt like a lost cause.

 

“Did you walk here?” he asked, frowning. She just smiled at him, and he felt the corners of his mouth mirror hers.

 

“I like walking,” she said. “So, you ready to go in?”

 

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” he replied, dashing forward to open the door for her. She smiled at him again before heading inside, and he felt like his chest might explode.

 

He’d called ahead to make a reservation, so they didn’t have to wait long for a table. The place was your standard L.A. gastropub, all dark woods and exposed beams and overpriced Americana food, but he’d picked it after she said she liked everything because they had a little bit of everything. Plus, he knew the place well enough to know it was fairly intimate without feeling claustrophobic.

 

They managed pleasant enough small talk while getting their drinks and dinner orders in, but after their server had scurried off, leaving no menus for either of them to hide behind, the conversation careened to a halt. 

 

Ben took a sip of his wine to avoid having to say something, trying frantically to think of how to steer the conversation forward. He’d wanted to maybe wait until after they’d eaten to talk about the more serious stuff, but at the same time, he felt as if he didn’t say something soon he might never work up the nerve. 

 

Rey seemed to sense his unease, too. She kept fidgeting; alternating glances up at him with small, soft smiles and at her hands in her lap.

 

“So.” Ben started. His throat was dry with anticipation. He took another gulp of wine; finishing his glass. Maybe being drunk would make this whole thing easier.

 

Rey met his eyes, smiling softly again, and he felt slightly heartened. How could a girl like her be interested in him? He didn’t really understand it, but he didn’t really care to, either. He was just happy she did.

 

“So,” she repeated. She took a sip of her own wine, and he opened his mouth to speak. No words came out — he was too busy watching her lips around her glass.

 

She set her glass down.

 

“I’m really glad you invited me tonight, Ben,” she murmured, quietly, hazel eyes searching his. He wish he had more to offer those inquisitive eyes of hers, but he knew she’d only see herself. 

 

He hoped it was enough.

 

“I’m really glad you said yes,” he said, smiling shyly. 

 

“Of course I did,” she said, leaning closer. “I... I like you, Ben. I think I’ve been, well, pretty open about that.”

 

She was blushing, very prettily, too. He tried not to gape at her, grabbing the bottle of red he’d ordered for them clumsily in order to do something with his hands.

 

“I like you, too,” he said, slowly. “More wine?”

She watched him, then nodded. She hadn’t finished her glass, but he filled hers anyway, before his.

 

“I... really like you, Rey,” he continued, lamely. 

She smiled again, widely. Her smile lit up her whole face; it was something he loved about her — you could see it in her eyes, sparkling like starlight. If he had a way to capture that look and infuse it into everything he created, he would. It was that inner light in her that he saw so clearly that attracted him to her; like a moth to a flame. Maybe because he couldn’t find anything like that in most people. Including himself.

 

“In case you hadn’t, um, realized it yet, I wanted to tell you that I went to the shop so much not just because of your talent in finding really amazing pieces, but, well, because of you. I wanted to see you.”

 

“I’d...hoped so,” she said, the pink spots high on her cheekbones getting more pronounced, even in the dim light of the restaurant.

 

“Good,” he said, running his hand through his hair, “That’s...that’s good.” 

 

He opened his mouth to keep talking — he just had to keep going, get it out — but was interrupted by their server’s return. The man set down each of their meals, and Ben did his best not to glare at him too harshly. For Rey’s sake.

 

Once he’d left, Rey picked up her fork, looking like a kid in a candy store.

 

“This. Looks. AMAZING,” she gushed.

 

Tentatively, she took a bite of her pasta, only to swallow and _moan_. Ben’s eyebrows shot up his forehead about the same time his pants started feeling uncomfortably tight.

 

“Good?” he asked, weakly.

 

“So good,” she said, between mouthfuls. 

 

Fondly, he watched her eat. Clearly, she appreciated a good meal. He couldn’t help but think Plutt must not pay her enough — no surprise there — she didn’t seem to eat out all that much. A good habit, for sure, but he was looking forward to taking her to a bunch of L.A.’s best restaurants just to see what she liked. 

 

As long as she still wanted him to, after this.

 

Rey was something of a voracious eater, so it didn’t take long for her to clean her plate. Ben, meanwhile, only managed a few bites of his pork tenderloin before pushing his plate away.

 

“Is it not good?” Rey asked, looking down at his mostly untouched meal.

 

“It’s fine,” he said, distractedly. He took another gulp of wine, mentally trying to psych himself up. This was it. He was just going to do it. He was going to tell her. “Not...not really hungry.”

 

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, concern creasing her brow. 

 

Ben let out a shaky breath, and gave her a grim smile.

 

“Not really. I have to tell you something.”

 

“Okay,” she said, placing her tiny palm over his between them on the table. He glanced at it, and she squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

 

“It’s sort of, well, embarrassing,” he said, doing his best not to grip her hand too hard.

 

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. He was grateful; now that he’d started, it felt easier to just get it out while he still had the guts. Plus, she made it easier — if anyone would be kind about something like this, it was Rey. Just another reason he didn’t deserve her. 

 

But, he was selfish.

 

“Last night, was, well. Amazing, actually. But, I wanted to — ”

 

He paused as she gripped his hand tightly, now, but still, she said nothing.

 

“ — I wanted to tell you why I stopped things from going any further. The reason is because I... I haven’t ever, done that. Before. And I just... I wanted to talk about it, first. And to be honest with you. Because I like you, a lot, and I want to keep seeing you. You know, if you still...want to.”

 

He expected her to react, at least a little. To laugh at him, to roll her eyes, to storm out, even, but she did none of those things. She just stared at him, still holding his hand.

 

”Rey?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to avidvampirehunter, midnightbluefox and the entire Writing Den for reading and supporting me and this story! You guys are the absolute BEST.
> 
> And thank you dear reader for reading! I’d love your feedback; as always, your comments sustain my ego, so...yeah!
> 
> Also if you want updates for this fic don’t forget to press Subscribe!
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Can I take you home?” Ben asked, dark eyes sparkling a little gold in the growing California dusk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally have a true outline and direction for this story. We're looking at 10 chapters for sure, maybe more, but gonna try to keep it at 10.

 

"Rey?"

Rey couldn't think. But she had to. _She had to._

“How?” she blurted out.

Something awful passed over Ben’s face — something bursting with a terrible vulnerability that punched her in the gut — and she panicked.

She opened her mouth, desperate to clarify what she meant, but words poured out of his lips before she could utter a word.

“I, well...”

His ears were bright red, and Rey recognized the look on his face.  _Shame_.

Her stomach roiled, and she instantly regretted the massive amount of pasta she’d bolted down.

“Ben, please, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant,” she said, struggling to explain herself. She hated that she’d caused that look on his face. 

She knew it, and it didn’t belong anywhere near Ben Solo.

“What did you mean?” he asked. His tone was a stark contrast to the hurt way he’d stumbled through his first reply; now, there was a chilly wall separating them, and there was a deadness to his eyes that Rey didn’t like, not at all.

“I’m surprised, that’s all,” she said, sincerity shining with every word. “You surprised me.”

They were still holding hands. Underneath hers, his much larger fingers twitched. Carefully, she lifted her hand, then brushed his open palm with her fingertips, parting her lips at the sensation. Despite the current atmosphere, the touch was more  _charged_  than comforting. He shuddered slightly, and she felt heat thrum between her legs.

She  _liked_  this. 

She knew she wouldn’t have cared anyway — certainly, she was curious as to  _how_ , exactly — but she hadn’t expected how much she liked the idea of Ben Solo being really, truly,  _hers_.

A slow smile spread across her face, and his throat bobbed. The small movement underneath the skin of his exposed neck almost made her bite her lip.

“I suppose I understand that,” said Ben. In contrast to just a few moments before, his eyes were burning through her now. From  _her_  touch. There was still an old pain to the curve of his jaw; the slight tremble of his lips, but the raw edge of it all was... The same heat in her belly.

“Have you seen yourself?” she asked. Her tone was more serious than she’d intended, but she meant every word.

His reaction was just what she expected: a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a tiny bit of dawning realization. 

He gulped again, and wrapped his hand around her wrist.

“It doesn’t bother you?” 

“Never,” she said.

Relief flooded every facet of Ben — it relaxed his face, uncoiled his massive frame, and washed the air between them clean of misunderstandings. 

The tension that was  _more_  than that remained, taut as a bowstring.

Rey's smile softened, and she grazed Ben’s palm again, less easily now that he had a hold on her wrist, but the desired effect was the same. He melted under her, just a little, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her feel good.

“Listen, Ben,” she said, voice hushed, “Thank you for being honest with me. I’m...really glad you were, and I want you to know that that aspect of our relationship is just that, one aspect. I won’t lie to you; I’m really,  _really_  looking forward to the, er, progression of it, but there’s no pressure. We’ll go at whatever pace we’re both comfortable with.”

A long moment passed, until,  _finally_ , Ben cleared his throat. 

“Thank you. For still... for still wanting to see where this  _could_  go." 

Rey beamed.

“There’s no need to thank me,” she said, “And of course.”

 

\--

 

They paid for their meal — Rey let him treat her, this time — and then, they simply stood outside the restaurant, staring at each other.

“Can I take you home?” Ben asked, dark eyes sparkling a little gold in the growing California dusk.

Rey hesitated, toying with the hem of her dress.

Normally, she would insist on going back to his place, or (if it had been a bad date, which it most definitely  _hadn’t_ ) heading straight home. 

And she wouldn’t mind  _not_  walking the 45 minutes home in these shoes.

She bit her lip. Ben was still staring at her, waiting for her answer. He’d been so honest...

“Okay.”

 

\--

 

When they arrived at her tiny studio in Little Armenia, Rey couldn’t stop babbling. 

As she manhandled her way into the flat — a daily irritation, courtesy of the shitty old lock and the L.A. heat — she apologized profusely to the large shadow behind her that was Ben Solo. 

Once inside, she couldn’t seem to control her fidgeting. Or her mouth. 

“It’s really small, sorry, it’s just close to work and the grocery store and since I don’t have a car that makes it really convenient, especially because Unkar needs me to open most days and the walk over — ”

“Rey,” Ben interrupted her, grasping her hand in his. It was his turn to smile softly. “It’s nice. Thanks for inviting me over, and letting me make sure you got home okay.”

Rey gaped at him, then at the room around her. Her full mattress, unmade and only off of the floor because of the box spring she’d made out of cardboard boxes; the futon she’d gotten for free from her old dorm, covered in crumbs and discarded blankets; her minuscule (but thankfully  _clean_ ) kitchenette.

“Thanks,” she said, quietly. “Though, I walk home by myself all the time. No need to worry.”

Ben’s smile cracked into a full grin, the one with teeth that she liked. He shrugged.

“I know,” he said, “But I’m still glad to see that you’ve got a nice place. And, well, it’s good to keep getting to know more about you. In any way I can." 

Rey felt her heart seize up. It’d be painful if it wasn’t so deliciously exquisite — but the ache was sweet. 

“Thank you,” she said, trapped by his gaze. 

They were both still hovering near the doorway, and without even realizing she was doing it, she leaned in closer to him. 

“You’ll text, or call me?” she asked. He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes flickered down to her mouth. 

“Goodnight then, Ben,” she said. She tipped her head up toward him but didn’t go any further.

She didn’t need to. To her delight, he wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her even closer, then bent down to press a soft kiss to her lips. 

It started sweet; almost chaste, but then he pulled her almost flush against him, strong arms gripping her tightly, and her hands drifted to his jaw and tugged through his hair. He groaned, running his tongue over the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, absurdly eager for another taste.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. Still panting a little, Ben rested his forehead against hers, smiling his crooked smile again. 

“Goodnight, Rey.”

 

\--

 

On his way home, Ben Solo stopped at the pharmacy three blocks away from his apartment —  _not_  the one around the corner; he still needed a place to safely grab the random carton of milk. And his prescription.

Trying to be inconspicuous (not an easy feat when you’re tall and awkward), he slunk down the magazine aisle, hunched over and shooting furtive glances everywhere around him.

Despite his date with Rey feeling like it’d slipped by too fast, it was already pretty late. Thankfully, that meant there wasn’t anyone around. 

Ben surveyed the rack stuffed with gossip rags and muscle mags, keeping his hands stuffed in his pockets. For all anyone knew, he was looking for the latest issue of  _Time_. Or  _Wired_.

He was most definitely not looking for —

_There_. 

He snatched a few slim paperbacks off of the rack, then hurriedly made his way to the front of the store. He was lucky; the only other person up there was the cashier. 

He practically threw the books on the counter. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked the cashier — a short, middle-aged woman with kind eyes.

“Sorry?” Ben asked. His ears and neck were hot under her attention. 

“Don’t you need a birthday card, hon? You’re buying these for your mom, aren’t you?”

Ben forced himself to meet her eyes, then nodded, slowly, gulping down the vitriol he wanted to hurl her way.

“Uh. Yeah. I mean, no. I’ve got, uh, a card already. Thanks.”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” she said, ringing up each book. Just as she was lowering the last one into a paper sack, she smiled, holding it up.

“You’ve got a good eye! This is one of my favorites — ”

“I’m kind of in a hurry,” he said, cutting her off. She looked a little affronted, but mercifully bagged the last book and took his credit card.

Ben bolted from the store and sped all three blocks home. Only once he was safe in bed did he dare open the book he’d bought; the cashier’s recommendation...

_The Bitter Embrace II: The Virgin Malevolence_

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” he grumbled before sinking into his pillows and starting to read.

 

\--

 

“I need every last detail!”

“Keep your voice down,” Rey said, suppressing a giggle.

It was her day off, and she’d agreed to meet Finn for brunch. They’d just settled into a booth at their favorite hole-in-the-wall 24-hour diner, and Finn was already gushing over Rey’s date the previous night.

“Don’t hold out on me, Peanut,” said Finn. “What happened? Where’d he take you? Did you do the dirty afterward? I can’t believe you’re seeing  _the_  Kylo Ren!”

Rey blushed, looking down at her breakfast burrito. She pushed the half-eaten gut bomb around her plate with her fork, smiling gently.

“Look at you,” said Finn in an awed voice, “I’ve never seen you so smitten that you stopped eating long enough to breathe. You’re absolutely  _besotted_!”

Rey looked up, narrowing her eyes at him before she chuckled. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

“Oh, shut it,” she said in between giggles, “All right, all right. I’ll tell you.”

Finn held up a hand, signaling for her to pause her story, and flagged down the waitress for a coffee refill. Once his cup was full and steaming, he leaned in, eyes glued to her face.

“Okay, go. And remember, Rey — Every. Last. Detail.”

Rey sighed and launched into the story of her and Ben’s date after his show. She skimmed over the more salacious details and her own insecurities, finishing by recounting the previous night’s goodbye kiss. She didn’t tell him about Ben being less experienced than her; it felt too personal, something just between them. 

“Talk about a whirlwind romance,” smirked Finn, steepling his fingers together.

“Not really,” said Rey, still rosy-cheeked.

“What do you mean, not really?” protested Finn, “That’s two dates in two days! That’s pretty quick if you ask me. Have you slept together yet?”

Rey nearly spat out her tea.

“If you must know,” she choked, setting down her mug, “No, we haven’t. We’re taking things slow. Or, well, at a natural pace. No pressure. And even if we  _had_ , it’s not like we just met — we’ve known each other for a few months.”

Finn frowned.

“Be careful, Peanut,” he said, “Kylo — sorry,  _Ben_  seems nice, but those art guys usually have, you know,  _reputations_.”

“Excuse me?” 

Rey stared at her friend, blankly, forcing Finn to roll his eyes.

“I just mean that a lot of the artist types tend to get around, that’s all. I’m not saying Ben is that way — ”

“Trust me, he’s not,” Rey interrupted. “I know a player when I see one, and Ben is definitely not a player. Also, you’re one to talk.”

Finn’s jaw snapped shut.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said in a faux-innocent voice.

“Two words, Peanut,” said Rey, dryly. “Poe. Dameron.”

Finn gasped dramatically but then grinned.

"Poe and I had an understanding," he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. "And are still very good friends, thank you. And now I have Rose." 

"That's true," agreed Rey. "How are things going, by the way?"

A dreamy expression crossed Finn's face, and Rey's smile widened.

"She's fantastic," said Finn, a faraway look in his eyes. "She's... well, she's just fantastic, really."

Rey wrinkled her nose, still smiling.

"You're  _sickening_ , Trooper."

"Shove off, Niima," he teased, taking another sip from his mug. His smile softened; melting into a small upturn of his lips. "I'm falling in love with her."

Rey's eyes widened, and she felt tears burning her throat; unshed, but still there. A strange lightness was like a vice on her heart, gripping her with an almost unbearable happiness.

"That's wonderful, Finn," she said. She reached across the table and stole his hand, holding it in hers. "I'm so happy for you."

"Don't cry now, Niima," he teased her again, winking. "But thanks. I'm happy, too."

"I love Rose," Rey said, "I thought I'd be more jealous of her since you two spend pretty much every waking moment together, but — "

"That's not...  _entirely_  true — "

" — but the second I met her, I just couldn't help loving her! She's so funny and sweet. You two really are great together."

"Thanks, Rey," Finn said, eyes getting a little misty. Rey laughed.

"Now don't you start!" she said, letting go of his hand to swat his arm.  

"You started it," he said, sounding like a petulant child. He was still smiling.

“When are we gonna get together next?” Rey asked, thoughtful. “Maybe another movie marathon?”

Suddenly, Finn’s eyes got huge.

“Poe’s party!” 

“That’s not for a few weeks,” Rey protested, “No way we aren’t hanging out before then.”

“Well, obviously,” replied Finn, waving his hand at her impatiently, “But you can bring Ben! Then we can all meet him properly.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Rey, biting her bottom lip. Ben had never struck her as  _outgoing_ , but then again, he’d been willing to meet Finn the other night... She didn’t want him to be uncomfortable or put any more pressure on whatever their burgeoning relationship was.

Still, the party was a few weeks away. She could always ask him when it got closer. In the meantime, they could keep getting to know each other better, like they’d agreed upon. 

Not to mention, she knew her friends, and there was no way they wouldn’t keep insisting she bring him ‘round sooner or later. 

“Worried we’ll embarrass you?” Finn asked, eyeing her shrewdly. Rey rolled her eyes.

“That’s just inevitable,” she said, “But all right. I’ll ask him.”

 

\--

 

That afternoon, Rey had a bad case of déjà vu. She was at home, thankfully, but she was holding her phone in her palm and staring blankly at her text thread with Ben, wondering if it was too soon to touch base with him. 

Just as she started to attempt to type something witty, the phone buzzed in her palm, the name  _Ben Solo_  splashing across her screen.

She beamed, clicking the big green button, and raised the phone to her ear.

“Hi,” she said, cringing slightly at how eager she sounded.

“Rey, hi,” said Ben. His voice was a deep and as dark over the phone as it was in person, maybe more so. Something stuck in Rey’s throat as it reverberated through her.

When she didn’t say anything, Ben continued.

“I had a good time last night,” he said, voice still rumbling in her ear, “A great time, actually.”

“Me too,” said Rey. She winced, plopping down on her bed and crossing her legs. Could she sound any more breathless? 

There was a brief pause, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Ben said, voice hushed — like it was a secret he had to tell her.

“Same here.”

“When are you free to go out again?” he asked.

Rey’s smile widened.

“Now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it! Finn's use of the word "besotted" is APT when it comes to describing these two eager beavers.
> 
> Shameless self-promotion — I also have another Reylo WIP called that's a fantasy/arranged marriage AU inspired by feudal Japan if you're interested. :D 
> 
> If you're enjoying this story and want to get email notifications when it's updated, please feel free to hit that Subscribe button! 
> 
> Finally, I'd love your feedback, and as always, thank you for your support! Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey burst out laughing.
> 
> “What?” he asked. He could feel his ears getting hot. 
> 
> It took a few breaths for her giggles to subside, but eventually, she smiled at him again. It lit up her whole face, and suddenly his ears were hot for a totally different reason. 
> 
> “You’re adorable."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's isn't all fluff... Okay, maybe it is.

 

_Evelyn gasped as he came closer, weighing her down with large hands on her waist. He'd gently pushed her into a small alcove in the manor house gardens, hidden away from inquisitive eyes, making her knees quake with anticipation under her skirts._

_"You must know how I've come to regard you," he murmured, his rosebud lips drawing closer and closer to hers._

_"We can't," she returned, unable to stop herself from staring at his mouth while it moved. "You ask too much of me, sir. I am a lady, and you are a blacksmith. It's improper."_

_"Improper, indeed," he whispered. He was so close now that his breath ghosted along her collarbone, but she couldn't find it within herself to push him away with anything more than words. Words she said out of obligation more than want._

_"My lady..." he continued, a silent question. She didn't have it in her heart to deny him, or herself, and she gave the tiniest of nods, sucking in a sharp breath as his lips pressed to the side of her neck._

_"Oh," she let loose, the sound mortifyingly breathy. She heard him chuckle softly against her skin before he continued his assault on her neck, sending chills down her spine._

_She had trouble not moaning too loudly; too aware of how they were hidden, but still very much in public. Anyone could stumble into this alcove at any moment and see what she was allowing him to do this to her — a man who was not her betrothed, and of such low station..._

_When he used a large, calloused hand to rip open the front of her gown and bodice, exposing her breasts to the cool autumn air, she couldn't summon the urge to care or resist. The assault of cold on her naked skin caused her nipples to stand at attention, and she keened when he brought a rough thumb to one. His touch sent shockwaves straight to her core, a foreign wetness coating her thighs._

_"You are so beautiful, my lady," he breathed in her ear, "So beautiful, and your own. You don't belong to him. You don't belong to anyone."_

_He punctuated each word with movement; his other hand creeping up underneath her skirts, coming closer and closer to_ the space _between her shaking legs. He was touching her everywhere but not enough, driving her to madness; she was breathing rapidly and her skin was on fire, despite the chill of the afternoon. Just as his hand found her secret place, touching that special spot oh-so-sweetly over her still-clothed sex, he drew his face back so that he could gaze into her eyes._

_She wanted to scream, to say something; anything, but he made her feel too much, the sensations so strange but so welcome and overwhelming and confusing._

_His hands continued to stroke her most sensitive places, and she moaned again, and he smiled, his deep eyes — so like the ocean — penetrating her soul._

_"Though, if you would allow it, you could be mine, and I, yours."_

_At his declaration, she sobbed, softly, and his lips crashed against hers, his hot tongue seeking immediate entrance —_

 

Ben groaned, gripping his bedsheets with his free hand, and then glanced furtively around his empty room, feeling ridiculous.

This was... embarrassing, to say the least.

Not only was he reading dimestore porn for educational purposes, he was incredibly turned on by it. Growling, he palmed his own painfully hard erection underneath the sheets.

It was somewhat difficult, to say the least — clutching the paperback and jerking off at the same time — but it worked. A little _too_ well. 

Hastily, he grabbed a discarded towel from the ground, grateful he'd left it there after his shower. He was just in time — within another minute, his whole body was shuddering through his release, his spend thankfully caught by the towel. He'd let the book slip from his fingers to the floor, losing his spot, but he barely noticed as he slunk back into his pillows, still panting.

"Damn," he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. 

The book wasn't good, by any means, but he could see the appeal. There was more... _context_ , more emotion — more anticipation than regular porn. 

The buildup was undeniably...hot.

Ben had watched porn before. He had a sex drive; he was just woefully inexperienced and painfully awkward. He didn't care much for the porn he'd watched online; it did the job, but it felt utilitarian, at best, and seemed so fake. Obviously, it was, but it was a hard thing to get past in the heat of the moment. He knew, tangentially, that a lot of women felt the same.

Which was why he'd bought cheap erotica. Anything to understand what women wanted; what _Rey_  might want.  

His mind drifted to the way the female lead, Evelyn, had been hyper-focused on every touch, all the small details — things he might've never considered before. Was Rey the same? He hoped so. There was something very appealing about the idea of taking his time; teasing her until she couldn't stand it anymore...

His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed, ignoring the telltale twitch of his cock as he thought of her again. 

...He couldn't seem to stop. 

All in all, reading something as absurd as  _The Bitter Embrace II: The Virgin Malevolence_  had definitely been enlightening, even it was embarrassing.

With that reassuring thought, he reached to turn off his bedroom lamp, ready to ruminate in the dark over what he'd learned. 

\--

The next day, he spent the whole morning reading. 

He finished the first of his _educational_  books by lunchtime, but held off on starting the next one, instead opting for a much-needed cold shower. Once he got out, he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, wrapped in a towel and staring at the silent phone in his palm.

Steeling himself, he found her contact — she was already listed under his favorites, along with Hux, of all people — and tapped her name. 

She answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” she said. A flicker of warmth filled his chest at the sound of her voice. She sounded...happy.

“Rey, hi,” he replied, pausing briefly to lick his lips. His mouth felt dry.  

“I had a good time last night,” he continued, “A great time, actually.”

“Me too,” said Rey.  

She said the words, and he let a beat pass; closing his eyes to savor them. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured.

“Same here,” she said. He could feel the smile in her voice.

“When are you free to go out again?” he asked.

“Now?” 

Ben smiled, too.

\--

“Where are we going?”

Ben worked his jaw, biting back a grin. As soon as Rey had suggested meeting up, he’d had an idea of where they could go. 

“You’ll see when we get there.” 

She pouted in his passenger seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I promise; you’ll love it,” he said, hoping he was right.

Another smile bloomed on Rey’s lips, and she uncrossed her arms. 

“I better,” she quipped.

They rode the rest of the considerable distance (Los Angeles traffic was never _good_ ) in companionable silence. It was another thing Ben liked about her; about _them_  — when they both managed to relax, they didn’t need to fill the pauses in conversation with meaningless words, which suited him just fine. 

Ben wasn’t good at small talk. And despite Rey’s ability to light up any room she was in, she was quieter than she initially let on. He’d seen that long before she’d agreed to come to his show, or anything romantic had blossomed between them. There were shadows lurking behind the sun in her eyes... shadows he wanted to bathe in and help burn away.

Whatever she asked, he'd do. 

If that wasn’t proof he was falling head over heels for her already, he didn’t really know what was.

"Wait, Ben, we're not going — "

Rey's gasp of delight shook him from his reverie. 

She was scrambling to get out before he even put his car in park, practically skipping toward the entrance of the building.

“Rey, hold on a sec — ” he started. He grumbled at his seatbelt before he untangled himself and lumbered after her.

It was a sunny day, a little too hot for his liking, so he had to squint as he sidled up to where Rey stood in the parking lot, staring up at the giant sign plastered over the entrance.

**SKY ZONE**

INDOOR TRAMPOLINE PARK

“So this is why you told me to wear casual clothes,” Rey said, beaming at him. 

“Yup,” he replied, “So, good idea? It seemed fun...”

“ _Great_  idea,” Rey chirped happily, grabbing his hand, “Let’s do this!”

Before he could blink, she was dragging him inside. Within a few minutes, they'd paid (she'd insisted on splitting it again) and deposited their belongings into little lockers, including their shoes and socks. The bored teenager who’d taken their money had outfitted them with bright orange ones they had to wear instead.

As they stood on the threshold of the freestyle jump area — a massive space with wall-to-wall trampolines — he couldn’t help but watch Rey survey the room. She looked like she was breathing it in. 

“Ready?”

She met his eyes, still grinning, then shoved him forward.

Ben recovered fairly well. He wasn’t what anyone would call graceful, but he managed to find his footing enough to bounce rather than fall face-first into the canvas. 

Rey burst out laughing.

“What?” he asked. He could feel his ears getting hot. 

It took a few breaths for her giggles to subside, but eventually, she smiled at him again. It lit up her whole face, and suddenly his ears were hot for a totally different reason. 

“You’re adorable,” she said, “I think we might both be too big to be here.”

Pointedly, she nodded in the direction of the hordes of kids jumping, flipping, and goofing off around them.  

Ben’s lips quirked into a grin.

“I didn’t think I’d be braver than you, Rey.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but then she bounded toward him, springing into his arms. He was more than happy to catch her before she could fall over. 

It was easily one of the best afternoons of Ben’s life. It was insanely, _stupidly_  silly, jumping together around a bunch of rowdy kids, but between their height contests (he won those; he had the advantage, after all) and Rey’s impressive flipping abilities, they were having a blast. 

The many opportunities to touch her only made it better. A palm on the small of her back; a brush of lips against her neck as he held her hips... it was easy, it was _right_ , and for once, he wasn’t nervous.

(He'd never admit it, but the book did help.) 

More than once, the lifeguard — or whatever they were called at a place like this; they were essentially a bonafide babysitter — shot them warning looks. After the fifth one, Ben decided to do something about it, and pulled Rey into the foam pit, away from prying eyes.

The afternoon was winding down, and many of the kids had already been collected by reluctant parents. The teen on guard had retreated toward the entrance to the freestyle area, pointedly ignoring looking in their direction.

Ben saw the opportunity and took it. 

Huddled together and hidden by foam blocks, Ben covered her hips with his hands (she was so _tiny_ ) and pulled her close, kissing her soundly. He let his hands rake through her hair and cup her cheek. When she whimpered against his mouth, he saw that as a good sign and pressed his tongue against her lips until she eagerly accepted him. He loved the way she tasted; like cinnamon toothpaste, sweet and spicy at the same time.  

They were both breathless when he (reluctantly) pulled away. But breathing wasn't really an option.

"You're really good at that," Rey said, the words coming out in a _whoosh_. Her cheeks were flushed prettily, whether from the jumping or the kiss, Ben didn't know, but he liked to think it was the kiss. 

"You are, too," he said. He smiled, letting his hand rest on her shoulder, fingers lightly grazing her neck.

“I love it when you smile like that,” Rey said. 

“Like what?” he asked. He liked how goosebumps were pebbling on her skin under his touch. 

“With teeth,” she explained. One of her hands darted out, grabbing his. She intertwined their fingers. 

“Thanks,” he said, “I’ve got kind of a crooked smile, though.”

“I love it," she repeated, "It suits you."

Ben opened his mouth to speak, fully intending to tell her how she had the best smile he’d ever seen, but the words died in his throat as he stared at her.

“What?” she asked, her blush deepening.

“Nothing," he said, ducking his head. "You just caught me staring at you."

If it was possible, her cheeks got even pinker.

"Ben, can I ask you something?" she asked. He raised an eyebrow.

"Of course."

Rey wrinkled her nose, still smiling, but nervously so. He didn't think he'd ever get over something so simple — that she could be nervous around him.

"Well, I was wondering... A few of my friends are throwing a party the weekend after next, on that Saturday. I was thinking, well, maybe you'd like to go. With me."

"You want me to meet your friends?" he asked. He hadn't exactly meant to ask her out loud, but his surprise overtook his sense. 

"Well, yes," she said, biting her lip. Helplessly, his eyes zeroed in on the action. "Only if you want to, though..." 

"Of course I'll go," he blurted, "I'd, well, love to meet your friends."

"Really?" she asked, shrewdly, as if she had an inkling to just how anti-social he was.

"Really," he said, clearing his throat. "I told you; I like you. A lot. I want to meet the people in your life... Especially if that's what you want."

The words weren't pretty, but they were honest. He could be that if he couldn't be charming. Either way, Rey beamed back at him. 

"Come on," she said, pulling him with her as she stood up, chuckling. "We should probably get going before that kid gets his manager."

\--

“Holy _Batman_ , Rey. You look...”

“Amazing!” Rose gushed.

“You think?” Rey asked critically, looking down at herself. Rose had convinced her to wear a dress she usually left buried at the back of her closet to Poe’s party. It felt a little formal for the occasion — a short white thing that showed off a little more arm and leg than she was used to — but she did like the way it looked on her. 

“Trust us, your man’s jaw is going to drop,” said Rose. 

“It’s not too much?” Rey asked. 

“Nah, Peanut,” said Finn, throwing an arm around Rose’s shoulder. They were both lounging on Rey’s old futon; she’d asked Rose to come over and help her get ready. 

“You’re fussing. You look fantastic.” 

Rey smiled.

“All right,” she said, “I’m just worried about being overdressed.”

“Don’t worry, we’re changing before we head over there,” said Rose, “By the way, we should get going if we don’t want to be late. Is Ben meeting you there, Rey?”

“He’s picking me up in twenty minutes,” Rey said, nervously smoothing out her skirt.

Finn and Rose exchanged a look.

“We better get out of here, dummy,” Rose said, winking at her boyfriend. 

“Oh, stop it, you two!” Rey grumbled. She’d quickly learned that she was powerless to stem the tide of their near-constant teasing about Ben.

Over the past few weeks, Ben and Rey had seen a lot of each other. It wasn’t as frequent as three dates in three days, but it was enough that Finn dubbed it “hot and heavy” between snickers. 

Rey scoffed at that description, furiously hiding a blush every time he and Rose bugged her about it. 

Because the truth was, while they were seeing each other an awful lot, they weren’t... things hadn’t progressed, _physically_ , to “hot and heavy” just yet, at least not in her mind.

They’d kissed... a lot. And the kisses were incredible; so much so that she felt like a harlequin romance heroine when she thought about them too much — but Ben’s lips really were perfectly plush, and he really _did_  make her knees weak. It was cheesy as all hell but embarrassingly true.

But they were taking it slow, just like they agreed. Almost... _too_  slow. 

It was why she was so nervous about the party tonight — she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen; the time seemed ripe to take the next step.

She couldn’t stop imagining getting Ben alone in an alcove of Poe’s condo... And then going back to his place...

Cue the coil of anticipation in her gut, setting her on edge. 

Plus, he was meeting her friends tonight. For the first time. And they’d been merciless for weeks... 

“Rey? Hello, you still with us?”

Rey blinked. Finn and Rose were halfway out of her door; she’d completely spaced their attempts at goodbye.

“Oh, uh, sorry — ” 

“Relax, Rey,” Rose grinned, ushering her boyfriend at the door. “It’s all going to be great! Promise. See you later.”

\--

“Your friend lives in West Hollywood?” Ben asked.

They were only ten minutes away from Poe’s condo, and Rey was feeling slightly more relaxed. It was thanks to Ben; he was easy to be around when she wasn’t overthinking her every move.

“Oh, well, he’s older than me and Finn, a little more stable. He’s got a nice, cushy job in politics.”

At that, Ben raised an eyebrow, but then shrugged. His hands were a stark white where he clutched the steering wheel.

“Don’t be nervous,” Rey said, resting a hand on his thigh. She tried not to think about the hard muscle underneath her palm. 

Ben looked as if he was going to insist that he wasn’t nervous, but he stopped before he even started. Instead, he gave her a small smile.

"I'll try not to be," he promised.  

Thanks to the sheer amount of cars surrounding Poe's condo, they had to park a few blocks away. As far as Rey knew, this was the norm for Poe's parties; she'd only been to a handful, but the man oozed so much charm that she was never surprised by how jam-packed his get-togethers were. 

They walked toward Poe's place in another one of their comfortable silences. Rey was content to hold Ben's hand and ( _subtly_ ) sneak peeks of his profile — his jaw, the column of his neck, the hard lines of his shoulders underneath his fitted shirt...

He squeezed her hand. 

"Get a good look?"

She flushed.

"I can't help myself; you're too handsome."

He didn't say anything, but she could see that his ears were a soft pink underneath his dark hair. 

As they strolled up the walkway leading to Poe's condo, still hand in hand, Ben turned to her, looking confused.

"This place looks familiar..." he started, frowning. "Wait, what was your friend's name again?"

"Oh, right! Duh," she replied, "It's Poe. Poe Dameron." 

At the mention of Poe's name, his grip on her hand grew tight, and he stared past her toward the door, looking as if he'd seen a ghost.

“...Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the fluff took over this chapter! I had planned on getting to the actual party, but between sex lessons for Benny boy and their 3rd date in 3 days, this beast got longer than I expected, and the pacing of leaving the actual party until next chapter felt best. Hope you guys are cool with pausing the inevitable drama one more chapter. Sorry this took so long; I've been wildly unproductive and busy at work, life, and TWD.
> 
> As always, thank you for your support. Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm sorry," Rey murmured, drawing close. She could only seem to look at her feet. 
> 
> He pressed a large palm to her face, tilting her head up to look at him. The music filtering in from the living room was noticeably softer; vaguely, Rey recognized Elton's "Your Song" playing in the background and decided it was a good idea to rest her hands on Ben's hips.
> 
> He glanced down at her touch, swallowing hard.
> 
> "Don't be," he hummed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parrrrrtay.

 

“...Shit.”

Rey frowned. Ben was still clutching her hand as if she were a lifeline.

"Ben?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she squeezed, gently.

"Ben? Are you all right?"

He shook his head, seeming to come back to himself a little bit, then looked down at her. His lips quirked up in a tight smile. 

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I'm fine."

Rey raised an eyebrow. 

"Do you know Poe?"

Ben did that slightly irresistible thing where he bit the inside of his cheek; something Rey had come to recognize as a sure sign he was nervous. He let out a slow, ragged sigh. 

"Yes. He... He knows my parents. I've known him since I was a kid."

"Oh," Rey said, surprised. It made perfect sense, but she often seemed to forget that Poe was quite a bit older than her, Finn, and Rose. She was always confronted by that fact at his parties — the man seemed to _know_  everyone — but his effortless charisma made him seem almost ageless; more a fixed point than a person who had a childhood.

"Do you want to leave?" she asked, trying to hide her disappointment. She didn't know how she'd explain —

Ben's eyes lingered on her face, wide and knowing, and he shook his head.  

"Of course not. I want to meet your friends." He smiled, soft and subdued, but at least this time it reached his eyes. "It'll be... nice to see Poe. It's been a long time."

Rey smiled back, tentatively. 

"If you're sure."

His answer was to pull her close, releasing her hand and nestling her body next to his. He wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her slightly, then covered her hip with one of his large palms.

“Let’s go.” His voice was a deep hum that reverberated through her entire body, sending shivers down her spine. 

“Thank you,” she murmured back.  

He gave her another squeeze, lips a soft brush at the crown of her head before they sidled inside, still pressed together.

Poe’s condo was one-half of a Spanish Colonial, all smooth white stucco and red clay, with heavy greenery in the front. In contrast, the interior was a riot of color; Poe filled every nook and cranny with mementos from his parents' life in Guatemala mixed with all the odds and ends he'd picked up traveling the world in his 20s.    

The whole place was bursting at the seams with people laughing, talking, and swirling giant glasses of what looked like homemade sangria. Rey eyed one girl's glass, then pulled Ben off to the left, toward Poe's kitchen. She could use a drink.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen was crammed with even more bodies; the man himself snagging a refill from a bright orange, 10-gallon cooler (complete with spigot) and holding court. 

"So I walk into the meeting, fully prepared for a fight, but guess who his assistant is?"

"Pretty sure I already know where this is going," said Finn, who was standing next to Poe, watching him with a mixture of amusement and awe. Rose huddled next to him, giggling into his shoulder.

Poe smirked.

"No fucking lie, this NRA jockstrap's assistant is the same guy I took home the Saturday before! He took one look at me and almost wet his — "

Poe's eyes found Rey, and then all 6 feet and 3 inches of Ben Solo. 

At the sight of Ben, Poe's tale crashed to a halt. He looked frozen; drink suspended halfway between his chest and his lips, and the warm spark permanently stuck in his eyes seemed to flicker, then die out. She felt Ben stiffen, but he didn't let her go.

Thankfully, Finn came to their rescue. 

“Oi! Rey!” he crowed, jostling his way through the onlookers until he was beaming and puppy-eyed in front of them. “And you’re _him_.”

A crease furrowed Ben’s brow; his eyes flickered between Poe and Finn, the former still staring appraisingly at him from the kitchen counter, and the latter looking like he’d just met a celebrity.

“Oh, that’s right,” said Rey, remembering. The sound of her voice jolted Ben; she felt him jump a little. “Finn is a fan of yours, _Kylo_. You studied some of his work in college, right?”

Finn flushed slightly, and he took a large gulp of sangria before sticking out his hand. 

“Way to out me right away, Peanut,” he mumbled. 

Ben looked surprised, but he accepted the handshake, gifting Finn a small smile.

“Thank you,” he said. “Did you study art in school?”

Finn’s grin got even wider, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, Art minor. I double-majored in Architecture and Urban Planning. I’m more an admirer than an actual artist myself — especially industrial. Don’t have the talent to make a go of it myself.”

“Now that’s not true,” cut in Rey, suppressing laughter, “Remember that sculpture you made me when we were kids?”

“Don’t start, you,” Finn teased, poking her. “I made that piece of junk out of the goodness of my heart.”

“I was obsessed with starships when I was little,” Rey explained, turning to Ben. “You know, like the ones in big sci-fi fantasy flicks? We always watched those old movies at one of our group homes. Anyway, he tried cobbling one together with aluminum foil and a bunch of bits and pieces he yanked from the bin. It was one... _heartfelt_ piece of garbage.”

“My garbage masterpiece,” Finn said, sighing dramatically and placing a hand over his heart.

Ben chuckled; another low rumble that set Rey’s skin on fire, forcing color into her cheeks. He looked a little more at ease, and she internally thanked the universe for Finn and his ability to radiate sunshine.

“It sounds like a masterpiece,” Ben agreed, the small smile sticking to his lips, “That’s all I do, really. Try to show people that the thing they might’ve thrown away is something beautiful.”

Finn raised an eyebrow, then gave Rey a wink. Ben noticed, ears instantly turning pink.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “Didn’t mean to start waxing poetic about what it means to make art.”

“Nah, mate,” said Finn, raising his glass, “Couldn’t agree with you more. Let’s get you two drinks, yeah?”

He jerked his head in the direction of the cooler, and Poe, who, despite being engaged in a conversation with Rose, was still watching Ben with an indecipherable expression. 

Ben squeezed her one more time, then loosened his grip, letting her go ahead of him as they followed Finn through the crowd toward their host.

“Rey,” greeted Poe, smiling at her as they approached. It was the first time she’d ever seen his smile fail to reach his eyes. Panic was rising in her throat, but she pushed it down, smiling back. Blindly, she reached behind her, finding Ben’s warm hand waiting.

“Hi, Poe,” she returned, “This is — ”

“Ben Solo,” said Poe. His smile was too wide, masking something tight under his skin. “It’s been a long time. How are you?”

Ben worked his jaw, looking as if he was trying to get the words he wanted to say to come out in the right order. Wildly, Rey thought of one of those claw machines you saw at arcades — Ben’s mouth was as rigid as the cold metal, but at the same time, his eyes were soft as he took in the other man.

"Good," he answered. "Very good. You?"

Poe let his gaze linger, taking a long, slow pull of his sangria. 

"Good," he said. His eyes darted toward Rey. "So, how do you two know each other?"

Discomfort crept up the back of Rey's neck. She didn't know how to answer that question. What if she accidentally made Ben think she —

"We're dating."

Rey blinked, looking up at Ben. His tone was matter-of-fact like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Poe took another sip, eyebrows raised. Around them, Finn and Rose had fallen conspicuously silent, watching the exchange with thinly-veiled curiosity. 

"How about those drinks?" asked Rey, looking directly at Finn. He jumped, smiling apologetically.

"Right!" he agreed. Shuffling behind Poe, he worked on filling two glasses from the communal cooler. 

"We brought wine, too," said Ben, raising the bottle still securely in his free hand. He extended it toward Poe.

"Thanks," said Poe. When he made no move to accept it, Rose scurried forward and grabbed it, setting it on the counter behind Poe just as Finn handed Ben and Rey their drinks. 

Rey frowned into hers. 

"How'd you two meet?" Poe asked. 

"Ben came into Unkar's," said Rey. She couldn't help the steely note to her voice.

Poe seemed to really see _her_ , then. His gaze finally left Ben, settling on her instead, and he visibly relaxed; easy smile returning.

"Oh, really? What for?"

"Vintage signage," said Ben, "Rey salvaged almost half of the collection in my latest installation."

Ben looked down at her, the side of his mouth quirking up into a tiny, secret smile.

"I don't know how I would've done it without her."

Rey blushed deeper, ducking her head a little at the compliment.

"Don't be silly," she said, "You're the artist, not me."

"Here we go again," he said, chuckling. When Finn joined in, Rose looked questioningly between the three of them.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," said Rey, chuckles subsiding enough for her to take a good swig of her sangria, "When Finn pulled us into the kitchen, he told Ben all about his, uh, art history. Including the Millennium Falcon he made me out of garbage."

Ben choked on his drink a little.

"You didn't say it was a Millennium Falcon," he said, coughing. Rey shrugged.

"I'm Rose, by the way," said the petite Asian girl, extending her hand toward Ben. He took it with another small smile. "Finn's girlfriend."

"Yes, Rey's told me all about — "

"I hadn't heard about the show, congrats," interrupted Poe, lightly. His eyes were darting between Ben and Rey, still searching. 

"Uh, thanks," said Ben, withdrawing. Rey could see it; the line of tension traveling from his jaw all the way down his broad back, keeping him ramrod straight. He'd started to relax as they'd eased into the conversation, but snapped back every time Poe spoke.

"Weird, though," Poe continued, raising his glass again, eyes fixed on Ben. He was already almost out, and Rey wondered how much he'd drunk. Drunk Poe was usually a lot more fun.  

"You'd think Leia would've mentioned you had a show coming up."

Ben's free hand twitched, but otherwise, he didn't move.

"Your boss?" asked Rey, turning to Poe. 

"Yeah, Sunshine," Poe said. Much as she liked Poe, Rey didn't like the smarmy, superior look he had on his face. 

"Leia is Ben's mom. Didn't you mention that, bud?"

Ben squeezed his sangria so hard Rey worried he'd accidentally shatter the glass.

"No."

"We've only been seeing each other a few weeks, Poe," Rey said, "Do you mind not grilling the guy I'm trying to date?"

She didn't look back to see Ben's reaction, instead choosing to glare at Poe, who threw back the rest of his drink in one gulp.

"Shut. The. Front. Door," gasped Finn, eyes getting huge, "Ben, your mom is a state Senator! But wait, does that mean you're an Organa, or — "

"No," Ben cut him off. "My last name is Solo. My mom never changed her name."

"So did you two grow up together?" Rose asked, looking between the two men. 

"Oh yeah," drawled Poe, wearing a wide smirk. Like magic, he was already swishing a fully replenished glass. "You guys know Leia helped my parents a lot when they immigrated here; we even lived with the whole family for a while when I was young. And then she helped put me through college, hired me... Benny boy and I go way, _way_ back."

Ben said nothing, just stared into his glass. Rey teetered from one foot to the other, gazing hotly at Poe.

"Small world," she forced out, "Funny, isn't it? Ben didn't even know we were friends, Poe. He actually had no idea whose party I was taking him to tonight."

"Oh?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. He glanced toward Ben again. "That sure explains a lot."

"What's your problem, Poe?" asked Rose. She'd been mostly silent throughout the whole exchange — Rey suspected that, like her, she felt a bit too out of the loop to actively steer the conversation to a more productive place — but now she was glaring at Poe, too.

"Nothing," he said, shrugging. 

“Poe — ” started Finn, but was silenced by a wave of Poe’s hand. 

“Time to mingle,” he said. He threw back another large swig before pushing through their circle and disappearing into the throng of partygoers.

“We should, too,” said Rose, “Just for a bit. I saw Kaydel earlier and need to say hi.” 

She smiled sweetly up at Ben.

“It was really nice to meet you, Ben. We’ll be back, so don’t go anywhere!”

With that, she dragged a disappointed Finn away with her, leaving them to each other.

"I'm sorry," Rey murmured, drawing close. She could only seem to look at her feet. 

He pressed a large palm to her face, tilting her head up to look at him. The music filtering in from the living room was noticeably softer; vaguely, Rey recognized Elton's _Your Song_  playing in the background and decided it was a good idea to rest her hands on Ben's hips.

He glanced down at her touch, swallowing hard.

"Don't be," he hummed. "Poe's not..." Ben sighed, removing his hand from her face to card it through his hair. 

"Not what?" she asked.

His eyes searched hers as he returned her casual touch, curling his palms over her shoulders. There were still plenty of people around them, chatting and laughing loudly, but he was zeroed in on her, gaze as intense as ever. He looked like he didn't know how much to say, and it made her heart splinter a little.

Realization washed over her, surprisingly soft and cool. Like sipping cold water on a hot afternoon.

She wanted him to _want_ to tell her everything. Which meant...

She wanted to tell _him_  everything.

"Not wrong," he said, voice breaking a little. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "He's not wrong about me. He... he has reason to be angry, Rey." 

She watched him, carefully, taking in the crease of his brow; the full, roundness of his lips; those long, dark eyelashes fluttering against pale skin. 

"That doesn't matter," she said, breaking the silence. His eyes snapped open.

"You — "

"It might be true," she continued, "And I... I hope you'll tell me more about it when you're ready to talk about it... I think we need to, at some point. But he could've handled that better." 

Ben didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just smiled at her, teeth and all, and bent to kiss her on the forehead.

 

\--

 

They left the party early. 

Barely two glasses of sangria in, Rey pulled Ben away from Finn and Rose, babbling a stream of excuses before making their exit.

Once they were safely alone in his car, he let out a relieved sigh. 

She laughed, angling her body toward him, hazel eyes shining in the dim light of the surrounding street lamps.

"Have fun?" she teased. He glanced at her, idly adjusting his t-shirt, then his jacket. 

"I did, actually, " he admitted, the beginnings of another soft smile curling the side of his mouth. He looked away from her, searching for his seatbelt. "Your friends are really — 

She didn't let him finish his sentence. Seized by an overwhelming need to touch, she leaned forward, grabbing his face in her hands and slotting her mouth over his in an urgent kiss. She didn't know what it was — maybe it was that he'd gone to this party with her, or had started to open up after the incident with Poe, or that he obviously liked her friends — whatever it was, even if it was all of those things, it didn't matter at that moment. She just needed to be close to him.

The kiss turned scorching fast, _so fast_ , and she was pressing herself to him, practically straddling him (damn steering wheel), gripping his shirt with clawed hands, and he was kissing her back, tasting her with a kind of lazy appreciation that was driving her absolutely _mad_. 

She needed to know every last _inch_  of Ben Solo.

"...Nice," he breathed when she finally released him.

She let her eyes trail over his face, memorizing every mark; every dip and line. Gently, she brushed a thumb over the stubble sprouting on his jaw.

"Can we go back to your place?" 

She didn't want the words to sound desperate (even though they _were_ ; they _so_ were), but she couldn't help saying them. In the moment between him responding and her request, fear curdled in her stomach — she didn't want to rush him, but — 

"Yes."

 

\--

 

The drive back to his apartment went too fast and too slow at the same time. 

Ben's hands twitched on the wheel as they made half-assed attempts at real conversation — what he thought of Finn and Rose (he thought they were good together; that Finn was hilarious and kind, and Rose was somehow both the sweetest person alive and still terrifyingly fierce); how Rey had introduced them, having been in classes with Rose; how Rey should consider quitting Unkar's and go back to school; there were so many scholarships and grants out there, now; and how Poe managed to make that much sangria.

Words abandoned them when they made it to the lobby of Ben's building. The elevator ride up to his apartment was all painful fidgeting and stolen glances, but neither of them made a move.

Until they were inside his apartment, anyway.

As soon as the door was shut, Ben pounced. 

Rey was shocked but delighted when he pushed her back against his door, crowding her with his massive frame, wrapping huge hands around her waist and mouthing at every centimeter of skin he could reach. 

She couldn't help it; she moaned embarrassingly loudly as his lips learned her by heart, and she was torn between pressing her legs together to ease the sudden, insistent ache between her thighs and wrapping them around his waist so she could find any friction. 

" _Please_ ," she gasped. "Please, Ben." 

He was merciful, removing himself from her neck and taking her hand to pull her upstairs. Giddy anticipation filled her gut; that nervous, almost unbearably delicious excitement that always proceeded intimacy between people who wanted it _this_  bad.

Boy, did she.

They were upstairs, and she only had a second to appreciate the clean, dark lines of his room — all soft, cozy grays and whites — before he was kissing her soundly again, holding her close, hands cradling her face and tongue tasting her, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to her core.

Rey clung to him, clutching his shirt and his bicep, slightly delirious from the surprise of him taking the lead. But she wasn't about to complain — especially not when he was biting her lip like _that_  and running a hand through her hair and ghosting fingers down her neck...

Before she knew what was happening, he'd backed her against his bed. She would've fallen onto it, but he held her tight to him as he pulled away, letting her take a breath.

"Sorry," he murmured. Again, his ears were tipped pink. "I sort of attacked you..."

"W-what?" she asked, looking at his lips. They were so _pink_  from kissing her.

His eyes lit up, and those pink lips twisted into a half-smirk. 

"Did you like that?" he asked. His voice dropped a few octaves, making it very, _very_  hard for Rey to breathe normally.

"I think you know I did," she answered. She didn't know where this new confidence was coming from, but she _liked_  it.

Ben's half-smirk blossomed into a cheeky grin, and then he was kissing her again, and they were on his bed, now, and he was touching her — gentle, hesitant, but it was still so _good_ ; light grazes of his nails on her arms or his hand brushing her breasts, and dear god, how was he doing this to her?

She was panting and drunk on his exploratory touches by the time he'd made his way down her dress, nuzzling her with his long nose down _there_. Fabric still separated their skin, but it was barely anything at all when he was between her legs, breath hot on her.

"Rey," he said. His voice was so deep and dark, but so _careful_ , too. "Can I try... please let me... taste you."

Her thoughts were already incoherent, but that made it through. 

"You don't have to," she insisted breathlessly. 

She was a fucking liar. 

He had to, he _had_  to, she didn't care if she was his first attempt at this; she'd let him try pretty much anything if it meant that mouth would —

His fingers were already snaking underneath her dress, sliding up her thighs, and she groaned.

" _Please_ ," he said. He brushed lightly at her still-covered cunt with a thumb, and she bucked a little at the touch, letting out a whimper. She'd already soaked through her panties; he had to have felt it.

"Okay," she said, shakily, "If you really — "

She couldn't finish the thought, because he'd started to touch her again. He buried his head between her legs, practically under her dress, and kissed the insides of her thighs as he rubbed her, slowly, _tortuously,_ through her panties. The friction of the fabric pressing her was _good_ as he tried grazing her, stumbling across her clit with the pad of his thumb, and she hissed, so he kept touching her there, listening for what she liked. Encouraged by her responses, he got bolder, licking a stripe up her slit through her panties as he continued to trail light fingers across her most sensitive spot.

"Oh god, take them off," she pleaded, closing her eyes.

Deft fingers hooked around the edges of her underwear, and then he was pulling them down and away. He didn't bother taking them off all the way; instead letting the garment pool at her feet.  

"Keep telling me what you like," he insisted, voice still low and straining. 

She nodded, absently, reaching down to guide him to her, but he was already _there_ , kissing her _there_ , so soft and it was good but she needed more and wait, wait, _wait_ , he was giving it to her. He licked her slowly, lapping at her arousal languidly while circling the same thumb around her clit. 

It was hard to remember to be vocal; to urge him on, because his instincts were, well, _fuck_ , but Rey tried her best.

"Yes, _there_ , fuck, Ben, that's so good, you're so good..."

Maybe it was that he was actually listening to her, or maybe it was that he was so hesitant, so careful, so determined. 

She didn't know. She definitely didn't care. 

She'd let him do this forever.  

"More, please," she whimpered, "More pressure right — _yes_ , that's it.... perfect..."

His soft, steady learning of her was stifling in the best way; he was really good at anticipating what she wanted and applying just the right amount of pressure, but soon, she needed even more.

"Could you... I need you to — " 

His mouth left her momentarily, and she almost whined in protest, but then his finger teased at her entrance, and her legs actually _shook_. 

"Yes, yes, yes, _thank you_..."

She was so wet it should've been mortifying, but she was way beyond caring as he slid one thick finger inside, then two, adding to the delicious, thrumming stretch. Like with his mouth, he took his time, pumping slowly until he curled his fingers around that spot that made her keen. 

" _Fuck_ ," she swore. She was climbing quickly, now, and he seemed to be able to tell, increasing his pace. She pressed her palms to her chest, thumbing her own breasts through her dress.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured. A huge hand shot up her body and replaced hers, dragging across her nipples with another thumb.  

She meant to tell him he had nothing to be sorry for, but the words wouldn't come, especially after he put his head back between her legs while still managing to thrust two fingers in and out of her. 

She was so _close_  — shuddering, pulsing, pushing herself at him, building, building, building.

When he added a third finger and gently started suckling on her clit at the same time, she finally came undone, crying out a mix of his name and a string of curses, gripping his hair tight between her legs. 

He eased her down as her body slackened, removing his hand from her breasts to rub lazy circles across her stomach as he lapped at her.

She was panting as she came back to herself, blinking away dizziness. Finally, he pulled away from her body, and she managed to prop herself up on her arms so she could look at him. 

He was still situated between her legs, kneeling on the ground in front of her. His pink lips were even pinker, darkened by her all over them, and his eyes _burned_  with his own arousal, but something else, too.

"Was that... okay?" he asked. Trepidation crept into the corners of his eyes, dimming the fire, but only slightly.

"It was incredible," she croaked. "Come here."

She motioned for him to join her, and he did, crawling up her body to lay next to her. She kissed him, tasting herself on his lips, and smiled into the kiss. Already, she could feel herself start to drift, sleepy from the night and virgin Ben Solo's ability to render her completely boneless. _Somehow_.

She'd have to ask him about that.

"Now, let me — " 

"Shh," he cut her off, "You don't have to. Another time." He kissed her nose. "I can already tell you're half asleep."

"But — " 

He chuckled, folding her into his embrace, and she was definitely in danger of falling asleep.

"I'm taking it as a compliment, and that all my studying in preparation for tonight paid off. Go to sleep, sweetheart."

Had she been more awake, Rey would've questioned him about that, but for now, she was content to listen to him. Sluggish with satisfaction, she kicked off the panties still looped around her ankles, then snuggled deeper into his chest before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.  

Ben watched her eyes flutter closed, smiling, happy to ignore his own painful arousal in favor of making her feel good first. 

His chest was tight with the kind of happiness he'd chased — and always destroyed — most of his life. He exhaled, his breath disturbing her disheveled hair, and pulled her closer, resolving not to think about that right now. 

He wasn't going to ruin this. Not now. Not ever. 

So he closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep, allowing himself to revel in the Rey on his tongue and his arms; the Rey in his heart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, smut?
> 
> Full disclosure, I wrote that last part in a mad, frenzied dash this morning, so I've barely looked it over. Promise I'll go back and fix any glaring mistakes later, but I just had to SMASH that publish button today because Benny boy giving Rey oral is, like...well, you know what it's like.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in a comment or hit me up on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo. I'm a greedy whore for feedback, especially comments, so say anything. ANYTHING AT ALL. ;)
> 
> Finally, if you're enjoying this story and want to get email notifications when it's updated, please feel free to hit that Subscribe button! Thanks again, everyone. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stop that," she chided him, raising a bit of runny egg to her lips.
> 
> "Stop what?" he asked.
> 
> "Staring," she said, rolling her eyes. He chuckled as she took a massive, messy bite. His phone buzzed for the umpteenth time in his pocket, but he ignored it.
> 
> "Rey."
> 
> "Hmm?" 
> 
> Somehow, she managed to make cheeks fit to burst look cute.
> 
> "I want to be with you."
> 
> She choked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for these awkward kids to wake up.

 

Ben woke up happy. 

Rey was still in his arms, and even though he was a thousand degrees and distinctly uncomfortable, he was incredibly, incandescently _happy_.

Last night had been... well. 

He was happy about last night.

Trying not to disturb her, he glanced down at her face, still snuggled into his chest. He grinned. 

He was happy about this morning, too. 

Slowly, he tried to extricate himself from her, wondering how she liked her eggs — but before he could, she was blinking her eyes open, wearing a frown. 

“Where you goin’,” she mumbled into his armpit.

“To make you breakfast.”

Her head shot up so fast he had to bite back a chuckle.

“I’m awake,” she said, blinking rapidly now.

He let the laugh spill out, and she smiled sheepishly at him.

“You wore me out last night,” she said, smile curling into a smirk.

_That_  shut him up. 

He grinned crookedly at her, then bent to press his lips to her neck. He heard her soft inhale at the touch. 

“How do you like your eggs?” he murmured into her skin.

“I like all eggs,” she sighed.

“Mmm,” said Ben, reluctantly pulling away. “Guess I’ll get creative.”

He moved to get up again, but she held fast.

“Little longer.”

His heart surged, and he sunk back into the sheets. A few minutes passed in their familiar silence — Ben even wondered if she’d fallen back asleep — but then she spoke.  

“Ben?”

“Hmm?” he asked, trailing fingertips down her bare arm. He’d just been considering trying to move his hand to her side, or her hip...

She hesitated, and he paused, too.

“Will you,” she started. Her voice was soft with a sort of wariness that made his gut twist. “Will you tell me about Poe?”

“...Oh.”

He was... surprised. Not by the request — by how much it didn’t hurt him that she’d asked. 

He wanted to tell her. At least this; he wanted to.

“I’m sorry — ” 

“Don’t be,” he cut her off, keeping his voice gentle. She sounded so _apologetic_. “I should’ve told you last night. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I meant to ask,” she admitted, “But you, uh, well. We were obviously both distracted.” He felt her smile against him again, slow and something else he couldn’t see.

He cleared his throat. The tips of his ears were burning. He’d thought for sure she’d enjoyed it — he’d tried to listen, and react, and... 

“I hope it was a good distraction,” he blurted.

“It... _really_  was,” she said. She sounded surprised, but he didn’t blame her. "Speaking of which... You mentioned something about studying?"

His ears had to be bright red by now. He burrowed his face into her hair, hoping that might muffle his speech.

"Was hoping you'd forget that," he mumbled. She chuckled. 

"I definitely didn't," she said, "And I'm curious." 

"You're curious about a lot of things today," he groused. He made sure to kiss her forehead to soften his point. 

"Ben — "

"All right, all right," he agreed, "Which secret am I spilling first?" 

She paused.

"What, uh, materials did you use for _studying_?"

Ben sighed, then ran a hand over his face. 

"A few... books."

She tilted her head up to look at him, frowning. 

"What kind of books?"

He let out a soft groan, then forced the rest out in a rush.

"...Those books you can get at the drugstore. You know, with Fabio on the cover."

He'd expected Rey to burst out laughing (which she of course _did_ ), but he hadn't expected her to hug him so tightly.

Like an adorable monkey, she climbed her way up his body, shaking with laughter, until she was half-straddling his waist and pressing her hands to his cheeks and looking into his eyes, wearing that grin made of sunshine he liked so much.

It was hard to feel embarrassed when she looked at him like that.

As her laughter faded, she cupped his cheek with one hand and brushed her fingers through his hair with the other, smile softening like butter. 

"I'm sorry," she murmured, voice low, "You're amazing, and last night was amazing. Thank you."   

She bit her lip, and his gaze flickered to her mouth. It was getting more and more difficult to concentrate; especially with her practically on top of him. 

"Stop apologizing," he replied, eyes still fixed on her lips. "It was amazing for me, too."

She beamed again.

"Where'd you even get the idea to read erotica? It was... _effective_ , obviously, but I have to applaud your ingenuity."

He ducked his head.

"My... _mom_  reads them."

Rey raised her eyebrows at that. 

"Which brings us back to Poe," she murmured.

"Right," he agreed. He sighed, then grabbed her hips to shift her off of his lap. She tumbled onto her back, giving him a confused look, and he did his best not to catalog every inch of her. Like him, she was still in her clothes from the night before, but her hair was wild and her dress askew — if he looked too long, he'd fixate on warm skin and freckled shoulders and how he _knew_  she wasn't wearing any panties and goddamn it, why did it have to be _morning_?

Last night came rushing back in a hazy taste of memory, and he was already straining against his pants. If his cheeks weren't flushed before, they were now.

"If we're talking Poe, you on top of me is unfortunately not an option," he explained, trying to steady his breathing. 

"I would've thought that'd make it easier," she joked, smiling. 

He smiled back a little wanly, then lay next to her, keeping a tight control on his wandering touch. He forced himself to face forward, but let their fingers to intertwine. He could handle that without jumping her, at least. 

"You're too distracting," he admitted, closing his eyes. He tried not to let a sliver of shame trickle into the words, but it slipped through.

"Good." 

The possessiveness in her tone made his eyes snap open, and he glanced sideways at her. She grinned back, her hazel eyes sparkling with something both fond and scorching.

He cleared his throat. It felt like it took forever to swallow, but he managed. 

Poe. She wanted to know about _Poe_. Which meant...

"It's like Poe said," he started. His words were slow, measured. Not too difficult to get out, all things considered. 

Probably because it was Rey who was asking, and she was holding his hand. 

"...We grew up together."

"There isn't more to the story?" she asked. 

He winced. She sounded so careful.

"Technically, no," he said, matching her tone, "I haven't seen him in years. He went to college before I did; he's a few years older than me."

"But he works for your mom, right?" she asked. Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes."

"Do you — "

"I don't talk to her," he interrupted. 

The words _bit_. He glanced at Rey again; she looked surprised, like what he’d said stung her. 

He tore his gaze away, drawing his lips into a firm line. A familiar grip settled into his chest; squeezing his insides too tight, making pain bottle in his throat and pinch behind his eyes. 

"Oh."

He didn't look at her now. Numbly, he registered that she was still holding his hand. He wanted to take the words back; he couldn’t screw this up, too.

"That...explains a lot," she continued. Slowly, she started to draw circles on his palm with her thumb. He choked on the relief that accompanied the gesture.

"Does it?" he asked.

"Yes," she hummed. "Poe was angry with you. I'm guessing it's because of that." 

Ben drew in a deep breath. It felt like he'd punctured a lung; when he let the breath out, it came out sharp and stifling. 

"Yes," he breathed. 

She let the silence stay for a few minutes, giving him more space to just breathe; to feel her still tethered to him, there and so _real_ , and he couldn't help but think that she knew, somehow — she knew he needed it, that this wasn't easy, that this was the opposite of easy, and all it did was convince him even more just how unworthy he was of her. 

"It is... because of that," he started again, licking his lips, swallowing hard. "I'm sure he... he may hate me because of that. He doesn't understand the whole reason, why, I don't think. But he's... he's somewhat justified. He and my parents have always been close. And my mom and I... We haven't spoken in years. And it's my fault."

She was quiet for an agonizingly long second, one where he'd swear he could feel his heart beating in his throat, but then she spoke.

"I won't lie to you, Ben. It's... hard for me to understand that." 

"I know," he said, throatily. Something was stinging his eyes.

"Not for the reasons you think," she continued. He blinked; banishing the burning at the corners of his eyes, and chanced a look at her. 

She was still smiling at him, but sadly now.

She'd never confirmed it — never said it out loud, just dropped hints here and there over the course of their... whatever they were, but he still knew. He'd deduced as much. 

Knowing the way she must've grown up only made what he had to tell her even harder. 

Her sad smile flickered, lips trembling, and he started to reach for her.

"It's okay," she said, chuckling wetly, shooing his hand away. "Really. It's okay. I'm sorry. I don't mean to make this about me. I just... I want to be honest with you, the way you're being with me."

He chewed the inside of his cheek, nodding. 

"But I want to understand," she insisted, "I _want_  to. You could tell me nothing else right now, and I'll still be here. I want to be. But... eventually, I do want to understand." 

Somehow, he summoned the courage to meet her eyes. He turned his neck, and then she cupped his cheek again, silently asking him to face her.

So he did.

"My mom and I... We had a falling out, years ago. But our relationship was never _great_."

"What about your dad?"

Ben froze. He closed his eyes again — to her question, her kindness; to his own pain, coiling cold tendrils around his heart like a snake. 

"Didn't have a good relationship with him either," he managed. The words tumbled out of his lips like he'd spat Scrabble letters, jumbled and disjointed to his ears. 

He opened his eyes again, willing the wetness away, and noticed her watching him. She said nothing, just curled her index finger under his chin, lightly scratching at his stubble.

"Anyway," Ben continued, his voice rough, "They... were always gone. And I was always alone; a quiet kid they didn’t understand. Poe was... the _right_ kind of son." 

She searched his face, and he let her. Finally, she spoke. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He let his eyes trail over all of her now, fingertips following. 

"It's okay," he rumbled. The sides of her lips quirked up, and then she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his mouth.

"Thank you for telling me."

Ben skimmed the side of her face with his thumb, reveling in the softness of her skin.

"You're welcome."

 

\--

 

"Will you show me your studio?" 

They ate breakfast at his kitchen counter, barefoot and brushing shoulders, and Ben couldn't keep his eyes off of her. 

"Ben?"

"Hmm?" he asked, missing his mouth as he tried to take a bite of bacon.

"Stop that," she chided him, raising a bit of runny egg to her lips.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Staring," she said, rolling her eyes. He chuckled as she took a massive, messy bite. His phone buzzed for the umpteenth time in his pocket, but he ignored it.

"Rey."

"Hmm?" 

Somehow, she managed to make cheeks fit to burst look cute.

"I want to be with you."

She choked. 

Blind panic took over Ben's brain — he put a hand on her shoulder, ready to clap her back or perform the Heimlich, but she shook him off, managing to swallow her food in one loud gulp.

Her eyes were watering when she'd finally sucked down enough air to speak.

"Jesus," she coughed, "Good timing."

"Rey," Ben insisted, tone gentle. She eyed him, then looked at her empty plate, twirling her fork around some dried yolk.

"I thought we were together," she said.

He raised an eyebrow, setting down his own cutlery.

"I know we're dating. But I want it to be just us. Exclusive."

"Like, boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked, peeking back up at him, a Cheshire grin unfurling across her face.

"Yes."

Her grin widened.

"For someone with no game, you're a real charmer, Ben Solo."

 

\--

 

"Wow." 

The word came out more like a soft exhale, causing shivers to erupt across Ben's skin. He couldn't help it; he smiled at Rey again as she waded through the organized chaos that was his studio.

"You like it?" 

His words matched hers — quiet, low. It didn't seem right to disrupt the stillness; nothing moved in here except sunshine streaming through the walls of windows and the lazy, dancing dust mites. Nothing except him, anyway. 

And now her. 

"It's incredible," she said, winding her way through half-finished sketches, odds and ends he'd taken apart and put back together, and an endless number of industrial signs. The studio wasn't a huge space, but being unfinished added a lot of room to the airy loft. And helped with the rent. 

"You know what it reminds me of?"

"What?" he asked, trailing behind her as she explored. A knot of anticipation tightened in his stomach as she drew closer to what he'd been working on.

"That scene in that 80's Bowie movie, you know, the one with the muppets? The girl in the movie goes to this junkyard full of treasure — "

Ben snatched her wrist, faking a frown.

"Junkyard, huh?"

"You know what I mean," she amended, grinning again as she pulled him deeper into his miniature labyrinth of oddities made art. "Besides, I always liked that scene."

"Surprise, surprise," he murmured, "Scavenger."

Rey opened her mouth — probably to snark something back — but then stopped short, lips parted in surprise. She'd seen it.

He'd propped his largest sketchpad on an easel against the wall, closest to the best bit of light, along with a well-worn stool. Scores of charcoal pencils littered the windowsill next to where he'd left his latest piece half-finished. Still, he liked it — it was the first time he'd wanted to sketch something in a long time, and he almost wanted to leave it as it was, never done. 

If he was honest, he never wanted it to be done.

"Is that..." she breathed. He sidled forward to stand closer to her.

"Yes. It's you." 

She let out a sigh so huge she rocked back and forth in his spare slippers; the ones he'd made her borrow to traverse the unfinished floor. Lips still parted, she turned to peer up at him, eyes round and wet.

"It's not finished," he said quickly. He was still holding her wrist in his hand; reassuringly, he rubbed it. He wasn't sure who he was reassuring, but the motion felt good. "I mean, it's a work-in-progress, and I haven't shown it to anyone else yet if you're worried about that — " 

"It's beautiful, Ben," she said. She turned to stare at the sketch of her face again, studying it with soft eyes. "Do you really see me that way?"

“Of course,” he started, “I — ”

He didn’t get to finish, but he didn’t care, because Rey cut him off with a bruising kiss; pulling his face down to hers with two hands.

He didn’t need any more encouragement than that to grab her hips and hoist her up; without separating, she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding herself down on his erection, and he groaned into her open mouth.

This time, it was her hands that were everywhere — scratching his back, scaling his shoulders, grazing the shell of his ear — it was all he could do to back them up to the stool in front of his sketchbook, hastily plopping them down so she could keep writhing on top of him, scorching him with her still-clothed heat.

She broke the kiss to breathe, and he knew it was necessary but he growled anyway, reaching to touch her, but then she latched her pretty pink lips onto his neck and all he managed to do was to grip her hips tighter as she bounced on top of him. 

“Fuck,” he rasped. 

She chuckled into his skin before she started to bite and tease the sensitive flesh, and Ben bucked up into her; at this rate, he’d be cuming in his pants in minutes. 

She seemed to realize that, because she pulled away, slipping out of his hold and down his body like a snake. 

“What’re you — ?”

“My turn,” she said, deft hands unbuttoning his jeans; the same ones he’d worn last night. With a gentle tug, she pulled them down to pool around his ankles, and he was hit with a weird, awed sense of deja vu. His breath was coming in and out in pants as she did the same with his briefs, freeing his painfully hard cock. 

Her eyes widened as she took him in, and he felt a mixture of disbelief and masculine pride — but then she touched him, swirling a delicate thumb over the weeping head, and he couldn’t think of anything else except _that_.

He tipped his head back with a groan, hands braced on his thighs as she stroked him, using his pre-come as lubricant. How her tiny hand could —

She continued stroking his length but then dipped her head to taste his tip, drawing a hiss from his lips. She pulled her face away.

“Is that good?” she whispered.

“Fuck yes, please, keep going,” he pleaded. He was past the point of caring that he was begging her; he needed that pretty pink mouth of hers wrapped around him.

She grinned again, then licked the underside of his cock before taking him in her mouth, swirling her tongue around his head, and the noises he made were unintelligible; animal grunts he would've been embarrassed by if he could feel anything but her hot, wet mouth around him. She couldn't take all of him in, so she used her hand to pump the rest of him, using just the right amount of pressure, and lightly fondling his balls.

It didn't take long for him to finish — Rey was that talented, and he was admittedly, well, _eager_ , especially after the previous night, and when he came, she swallowed all of his spend, rubbing circles into the bare skin of his thighs to coax him down. 

He was shaking when she climbed back up his body, gently tucking him back into his jeans before standing between his legs, hands splayed on his thighs. He pulled her face back to his, then kissed her soundly.

"Good morning," he sighed against her lips. 

She was smiling again when he finally let her go.

 

\--

 

A short while later, they were saying a reluctant goodbye at Rey's door.

"Wish I didn't have to work this afternoon," she grumbled, toeing the floor. Ben smiled his crooked smile, eyes crinkling at the sides as he watched her.

"You could always quit, you know." 

She huffed.

"You know I can't." 

He looked away from her, ran a hand through his hair, then sighed softly.

"Call you later?" 

She nodded, and he bent down to press a kiss to her forehead. He'd turned to leave when her hand darted out, latching onto his. 

"You said 'didn't.'"

"What?" he asked. Her grip on his hand was tight as she looked up at him with a dawning comprehension that sent a chill down his spine.

"You said 'didn't,'" she repeated. "You said you _didn't_  have a good relationship with your dad."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I like cliffhangers; SUE ME. But also don’t I ain’t got the cash for that. And what a Crylo chapter, eh? If you have no idea what that means and want to find out, message me on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and remember, COMMENTS (wake me up inside?) BRING ME TO LIFE.
> 
> Finally, if you're enjoying this story and want to get email notifications when it's updated, please feel free to hit that Subscribe button! Thanks again, everyone. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Then why are you?" he growled. 
> 
> "Ben, I — "
> 
> He spun back toward her, his whole body shaking in anger — or grief, or sadness, or whatever madness was clawing it's way out of him, Rey didn't know — but it hardly mattered, because the torrent was streaming down his face as he snarled at her.
> 
> "He's dead. My dad. He's dead," Ben said, blunt. "I killed him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, kids. Thanks for joining me on the journey! (Full disclosure, I haven't read this once over, so some light editing may be needed.)

 

"You said 'didn't.’” 

"What?" Ben asked her. Cold fingers gripped her insides, slippery and sliding around her heart; threatening to squeeze it too hard. 

She had an idea where this was going, but she had to stay calm.

"You said 'didn't,'" she repeated. "You said you _didn't_  have a good relationship with your dad."

She stared at him, and he stared back, an emotionless mask covering _Ben_. It was like looking at a statue.

She was still clutching his hand. It hung limply in hers.

"Ben?" she asked. 

His left eye twitched. 

"I don't know what to say," he whispered. The words came out in one long rattling breath, like each syllable was a barb.

Rey paused, watching him closely. The mask was starting to crumble; she could see it in the tremble of his lips; the biting of the inside of his cheek. 

"I don't want to push you," she said, voice soft, "But... "

She wasn't ready for his outburst.

He tore his hand away and turned his back on her, breathing hard, a hulking figure in a tiny hallway. She recoiled, retreating halfway into her flat, clutching the door jam. 

"Then why _are you_?" he growled. 

"Ben, I — " 

He spun back toward her, his whole body shaking in anger — or grief, or sadness, or whatever madness was clawing its way out of him, Rey didn't know — but it hardly mattered, because the torrent was streaming down his face as he snarled at her.

"He's dead. My dad. He's dead," Ben said, blunt. "I killed him."

Shock stole over her, suffocating everything else; it was like a pinpoint inside her chest that grew and grew until it consumed her whole body, her whole brain. 

If she'd been looking at him, _really_  looking, she would've seen the rest of the mask fall away, and hatred take its place.

"He was drunk. I should've driven home that night, but I didn't."

She could barely register him standing in front of her anymore, pain pouring out of every inch. 

Instead, all she could see was herself, abandoned and alone on the side of a dirt road.

"There it is," he whispered, eyeing her with a sort of self-satisfied sadness, " _There it is_. You think I'm a monster."

A harsh chuckle ripped from his full lips; a sound that didn't fit Ben Solo at all.

"I didn't say that," she insisted. Her own voice sounded far away; she was trying to see through the haze of memory clouding her eyes, trying to reach him when he seemed so distant. "Don't put words in my mouth. Don't speak for me."

"Why not?" he pushed, ice frosting his words. "I can see it all over your face, Rey. You're just keeping it locked away, like everything else."

She flinched.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, forcing herself to focus.

She _wasn't_  dodging the bombshell he'd just dropped with the deftness a whole life of avoiding pain had granted her.

She wasn't.

"You lie to yourself," he spat, his mouth twisting around the words, "Everything has been me, Rey. _Everything_. What about you? Why won't you talk about _your_  past? Or why you work for Plutt, or dropped out of school? You keep expecting me to bare my soul to you, but then you won't tell me anything. _Why_?" 

Rey stared at him. Vaguely, she registered that her mouth was hanging open.

"You know the truth," he murmured, darkly. "Say it. _Say it_."

Rey was cold, and her face felt wet, and she choked on her response, fingers still clutching the door jam for purchase because it felt like she was falling.

"I..."

He looked at her. A challenge, a dare.

"...I'd rather not do this now."

All of him deflated; the darkness dissipated, leaking away until it was just the Ben she knew standing there, soft, and sad, and suddenly more open then he'd ever been. Shame and anger and guilt warred within her, keeping her quiet.

A deep sigh spilled from his lips, and she saw some of the same shame mirrored on his face.

"Yeah, me too."

 

\--

 

A little while later, Rey walked into work, head held high. Unkar was waiting for her behind the register.

"You're late," he said. His small, mean eyes searched her from head to toe. "And nothing to show for it, I see. Well, well, well, if this is how — "

"I quit."

The beefy man's mouth snapped shut, jowls drooping into his neck. Rey let her eyes linger on the disgusting details of his face; letting the hatred seep away as she steeled herself to keep talking.

"Listen here, girl. If you think anyone else would hire muck like you in a town like this — you've got a sharp mouth and no education, skills, or _tits_ — "

"Did you hear me?" Rey interrupted, voice ringing throughout the dusty room. "I quit, _sir_. Just came in to give you my notice."

Unkar laughed. His whole belly shook with the action, and Rey schooled her face into something she hoped was indifference.

"You're an even dumber bitch than I thought, Niima. You really think because some yuppie artist wants to fuck you that you're too good for this place?"

Rey let the words wash over her, but said nothing. Much as she wanted to say every evil thing she'd thought about the pig of a man over the past few years, she held it in.

Instead, she smiled.

"Bye!"

Unkar's rodent-like eyes narrowed, and she gave him a cheery wave. And then, just like that, she flounced from the shop.

She didn't look back once.

 

\--

 

She didn't want to go home.

She _wanted_  to head straight to Ben's, but her phone was dead and she had zero cash to hail a cab, so begrudgingly, she sped home to charge it. She'd need it to order the overpriced Lyft to Ben's downtown loft.

But when she trudged up her stairs, Ben was already waiting for her. 

His broad back was slumped against her flat door, long legs splayed on the ground. When he saw her climbing up the last set of steps, he jumped up. He made to move toward her, then froze — as if he didn't know what he was allowed to do with his own body. 

She stopped, too, hovering near the top of the stairs. 

"Rey," he pressed, "Are you okay? I tried calling, and then... I... I called the shop, but Plutt told me you'd quit, so I rushed back over here — "

"I did," Rey interrupted.

"You did... ?"

"I quit."

"Oh," said Ben. Surprise smoothed his brow, and he cleared his throat; his Adam's apple drawing her eye to the pale expanse of his neck.

"Were you... were you going to leave?"

Rey frowned, then stuffed her hands into the pockets of her work pants. 

"What do you mean? I left for work, quit, then came back home."

"I know that," he murmured. Perhaps unconsciously, he mirrored her again, pushing his massive hands into his jean pockets. "I mean, were you leaving after that?"

She let the question hang for a moment, but then pushed out a gush of air and stared at him, steely-eyed.

"I was going to come to your place. I just needed to charge my phone first.”

His eyes widened in more than surprise, then, and she felt her heart twinge a little at how hopeful he looked. 

“Rey, I — “

"I'm sorry," she started. Her voice was low and tight, and her fingernails dug painfully into the meat of her thighs.

"For prying. I thought... Well."

"Well, what?" he asked.

"This isn't fair," she insisted, "Both of us, neither of us were fair. You... you can't drop something like that, and then try to turn it around on me because it hurts, Ben. Not if this relationship is going to work. And I... I can't expect it to always be you, out on the ledge by yourself. I can't always _make it_  about you, like you said. I have to... I have to be open... _vulnerable_ , too. I can’t run away...”

He took a lumbering step forward, but it didn’t feel like he was advancing on her. 

“You weren’t going to leave?” 

“No,” Rey sighed. She took a tentative step closer, too. “I wasn’t. I won’t. I told you, weeks ago... I can handle the scary parts.”

His hands twitched at his sides, and his gaze traveled over her, settling on her face.

Tentatively, Rey raised a shaking hand.

"Join me? Please?"

He did.

 

\--

 

They settled into Rey’s battered futon, knees grazing each other like they had however many weeks ago, the first night after Ben’s show. 

For a while, all they seemed to be able to manage was a soft silence. Rey didn't look at him; choosing instead to watch the sun die outside her window in the waning afternoon. Eventually, she felt his hand close around hers.

"I'm sorry, too," he started this time. When she looked at him, he was staring down at their intertwined hands.

"I know."

He barked out a wet laugh, surprising her, and her eyes fixed on his face, waiting patiently for the answer. She could tell he was teetering; she could see it everywhere, in every eye twitch and lip tremble, and all of it struck her as beautiful and sad. 

"My dad would always say that," he whispered. The inky wetness of his eyes was threatening to spill out, and she thought she could catch it if he let her.

Sad, beautiful man. But she knew, _she knew_ , she could help him. And he could help her. 

He already had.

"Yeah?" she murmured. "Tell me about him."

He smiled a watery smile.

"He'd say that to my mom," Ben continued, "Always after she told him she loved him. It was a running joke."

Rey smiled, too, tremulous at first, but then he seemed to relax a little, and she let it unfold across her face.

"Bet she loved that."

Ben chuckled. The sound stuck in his throat.

"She did, actually. She pretended not to, but I could see she did. They fought a lot, and _we_ fought a lot, like I told you, but I never doubted how much they loved each other. It was right there, always in front of me. They just..."

She squeezed his hand. 

"...weren't so good at expressing it. Not in a healthy way. To each other. To... me."

Rey's smiled slipped away, and she hummed a small _hmm_  before replying, choosing her words carefully.

"Not all parents love their kids," she admitted, "But... I'm sure they loved you, Ben. Maybe that's naïve."

He squeezed her hand back.

"It isn't." 

She trapped him with her gaze, but he didn't seem to mind as he continued, weighing each word with a steady tongue.

"That's why..." he dragged in a breath, "...why I'm falling in love with you, Rey." 

The words were hushed; just for her.  

"You see the light everywhere, even in darkness. The hope, the best in people. Even people like me."

Her eyes widened and her heart felt like a piñata in her chest, ready to burst and spill out candy or something else equally as wonderful, but she couldn't start to reply because he was still — _blessedly_ — talking.

"You helped me see it in myself. It's cheesy, I know... but it's true. Even after everything you've been through... You inspire me. My show was about you, did you know that? Did you guess? Light in darkness, if you look for it."

He chuckled again, stroking her palm with his thumb, too quick to not to be nervous.

"And then, with understanding about how inexperienced I was, and about Poe. And now, with your patience, and your kindness, after I was so horrible to you. I just... It feels like I don't deserve you, I _know_ I don't, but I want to try to. I want to tell you everything."

"You can," she said, "You always can."

His eyes searched her face.

"I know," he murmured, "You'll do the same?"

She nodded, and he let out a shaky sigh. 

"The... night it happened," he started, "My dad had a few too many. I was a dumb kid; barely 19. My mom asked me to go get him, but we'd had a fight about me wanting to go to art school, and I didn't want to have another fight about me wanting to be an artist instead of an engineer, or a pilot, like him. I didn't want to hear him tell me I was driving his precious car all wrong, didn't want... didn't want — "

The words were choking him, and the tears came then, pouring out in shuddering gasps and sighs. Rey slid closer to him as he bent over — finally expelling part of the pain, letting someone else see it up close — and she rubbed his back with too-small hands, and combed fingers through his hair as he let it all out. 

"It's my fault," he gasped, "I killed him. He would've never tried to drive home if I'd gone to get him; or just called him a fucking cab, or something, I — "

"Shh," Rey said, "It wasn't your fault. It was an accident."

She didn't know how long they sat there, her quelling his cries with a touch, a murmur of reassurance, of understanding, until finally, he quieted enough to take her face in his hands, peppering her cheeks and nose and lips with kisses.

"Thank you," he whispered, " _Thank you_."

 

\--

 

It was a little while later, after they'd put on a random season of  _British Bake-Off_ , that Rey decided she was done waiting. 

They'd snuggled into her futon the best they could (even though there was a lovely, large-ish bed only a few feet away), Rey curled like a cat in Ben's arms, but as Paul Hollywood critiqued a contestant's sponge, Rey sprung into action. She was done with Ben's trailing fingers across her arm and his lazy kisses on her neck; it was all driving her _mad_.

So she wriggled out of his hold and swung her legs over his lap to straddle him. 

His sharp intake of breath was enough to spur her forward.

"Ben," she whispered, curling a finger around his clenched jaw, "Is this okay?"

He swallowed hard underneath her scrutiny.

"Yes."

She leaned forward, letting her lips hover over his.

"Good." 

She pressed the word into his lips, kissing him softly at first, sweetly, not wanting to pressure him, but it was him who was insistent, eager, surprising her. He pushed a hand through her hair, drawing her closer, drinking her in as he deepened the kiss, taking control. 

She was more than happy to give it to him.

She moaned into his mouth, pressing herself down on him and reveling in the hardness underneath her, stifling and perfect; adding to the ache in her groin and the wetness between her thighs.

In one swift movement, Ben vaulted upwards, wrapping an arm around her bottom so she didn't fall, and carried her over to her bed. He set her down gently, nipping and suckling at her neck as he did, and she’d be embarrassed by all the gasping she was doing but she couldn’t be, not with him, not when it felt like _this_.

He settled between her thighs, knees on her dirty floor, and she groaned in agitation, pulling him back up to her by his shirt collar.

“No time,” she explained breathlessly, “I love it, but please, Ben, _please_ , I need you.” 

His dark eyes looked liquid in the dim light of her flat at dusk, but he nodded, kissing her again, and covered her body with his. She whined when he brushed knuckles against her breasts and skimmed the skin under her shirt; paying him back by thumbing the top button of his jeans.

Teasingly, they tore pieces of clothing off of each other — in Rey’s opinion, _torturously_ slow — but she was wetter than she’d ever been in her entire life, so she wasn’t complaining.

Eventually, they were both naked on her bed, pushed back against her wall, and she was straddling him again, slowly rubbing herself against the head of his cock, ready to cry out at the delicious friction.

“Oh, god,” he choked, hands bruising her hips as she moved, still teasing, even though she felt ready to burst at the seams.

“Please,” she whispered, closing her eyes, biting her lip as she grazed him again, imagining him finally inside her. 

“Yes,” he gasped, moving a hand to her breast, brushing a hardened nipple, “Yes, Rey.”

As she sunk down on him, taking all of him in, she sighed in satisfaction at the pinch, the squeeze, the _rightness_  of this feeling, but then stilled, letting herself adjust to the fullness of it. Underneath her, Ben was breathing hard, brushing her hips and clearly trying not to cum immediately, or use his huge hands to impale her on him. 

She appreciated his restraint, even if she didn't share it. 

"You okay?" she whispered.

"Yes," he ground out, panting, "So fucking good. You're...god, you're so fucking good, Rey."

He swooped down to press a shaky kiss between her breasts, and she hummed, then started to rock on top of him, drawing whimpers from them both.

"Fuck," he groaned, gripping her hips hard.

"You can help," she gasped, "You can help move me. I'm already close."

And she was, embarrassingly so, but she decided it was beginner's luck, and let out a high, keening sound when he listened to her, grabbing her hips even harder as he helped her ride him. 

"Jesus," she cried.

"I don't know how much longer I can — " 

"Touch my clit," she managed, taking one of his hands and pushing it to _that_  spot, " _Yes_ , god, _yes_ , right there, just like that, _perfect_ , fuck."

His thumb circled her, messily, with no real finesse, but it didn't matter when he was so huge inside of her and she could control the angle and he was slamming her down onto him like that, and she was already  _falling_ — falling toward her release, falling in love, it didn't matter, it was _both_ , and it pushed her over the edge with a cry.

Ben kept thumbing her, not knowing to stop, not knowing she was so sensitive, but again, it didn't matter, because he came right after her, grunting into her neck as he pulsed inside, bucking up into her a few times before he relented, sinking back on her bed.

Boneless, Rey dragged herself off of him, collapsing next to him instead. He was still breathing hard, heartbeat hammering in his throat when she pressed a sweaty kiss there. 

"Ben?"

He turned to look at her, dazed and amazed, like he'd never seen anything like her. She'd think it was the sex, but then she realized that he'd always looked at her like that.

"I'm falling in love with you, too."

 

\--

 

"Is that her?"

It was the last night of Kylo Ren's exhibit, and the warehouse was packed with people. Snoke and his PA, Armitage, were waiting for the man himself to arrive.

He did — _on time_ — but had a skinny, junkrat of a girl on his arm. 

Hux's eyes followed Snoke's. He nodded.

"Yes, I believe so."

 

\--

 

Rey was walking through a maze of light.

This time, her date wasn't Finn, but the artist himself. Arm in arm, she and Ben meandered through the installation, passing sign after sign, message after message — bright and blinking and blazing colors.

They took their time, all lingering touches and sly kisses through the maze, reminiscing over finds they’d snagged together or Ben explaining where he’d collected a piece Rey hadn’t helped him with. Each one had a story, and Rey, ever the scavenger, wanted to hear them all.

They’d almost made it to the end of the maze — to Rey’s favorite part — when a tall, reedy man with a pockmarked face sauntered up to them, a pinched-looking redhead carrying two glasses of champagne trailing in his wake. 

“Ren,” he called, icy blue eyes trailing over Ben, predatory and sneering, “Good of you to show up. Hux wasn’t sure if you’d be gracing us with your presence.”

The redhead scowled, but said nothing, gripping the champagne flutes with long, pale fingers.

“Snoke," said Ben, eyeing the man with feigned disinterest. Still, the lines of his shoulders grew tight under his sweater, and he grasped her hand in his.

Snoke ignored her completely as he took another step forward, invading Ben's personal space as he spoke.

"I've had enough of your insolence, Ren. Send your little floozy home so we can discuss the future of my patronage in private — " 

"Shut up," Ben ground out, "Don't talk about Rey like that."

Snoke chuckled, finally looking at Rey. He gave her a rude once-over.

"Always the tortured artist," he mused, "Mommy and daddy issues, and now shacking up with a tawdry little junkrat. Well, at least she found you enough garbage to peddle as _art_. But does she know about your past, _Ben_?"

The older man let the words fall, waiting for them to have some sort of effect, like sharp teeth sinking into flesh — but to Rey, they meant nothing. 

So she laughed.

They all stared at her, Ben included, but he smiled where Snoke and the redhead just looked appalled.

"Graceless," sniffed the redhead.

"Watch it, Hux," warned Ben. She squeezed his hand in hers, laughter subsiding as she sized up Snoke the same as he'd done to her. 

"Was that really your big plan?" she asked, amusement dripping with every sarcastic syllable. "Waltz in here, exert some kind of misogynist, classist bullshit, and then try to put me off of Ben with a big reveal about a not-so-secret _secret_? This isn't a movie, mate. Nice try, though. Really. Good one."

Snoke's mouth fell open as he stared at her, but just as he started to sputter a retort, Ben cut him off.

"You should leave, Snoke. Oh, and by the way, our professional relationship is over. The details are already on the way to your office — you'll still get your share of this exhibit, for instance — but otherwise, I have a new patron."

Snoke snarled, turning on his heel to stomp off, but not before he issued a final — and ultimately, fruitless — warning.

"You'll be hearing from my lawyer, Solo." 

The icing on the cake was when Ben plucked both champagne glasses out of Hux's hands with a wink.

"We'll take these, thanks."

 

\--

 

It didn't take long for Hux to follow his boss, and once he did, both Ben and Rey knocked back their glasses of champagne and headed to the spot Rey wanted to see before they went home — the final sign.

THIS IS THE SIGN YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR

"Is it cheesy?" Ben asked, running a hand through his hair. Rey beamed at him.

"The sign, or bringing me back to it? Because both _definitely_  are."

He chuckled at her joke, then pulled her close, wrapping large hands around her waist in front of the hazy white light. He tipped his head to hers, locking eyes.

"Rey, I — "

"Want to get out of here?"

He smiled that crooked smile of his, and for the second time in front of the same sign, Rey turned that smile into a kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks!
> 
> So for the record, there will be an epilogue, but otherwise, this chapter is it! The end! I hope you stick around for the epilogue, which will be sweet as candy, I think, but in case you aren't I wanted to say a few things while I've got ya...
> 
> \+ THANK YOU FOR READING. Really, it always means a lot to any writer, I think, but I really want to say thank you to everyone who read this because not only was it my first Reylo fic, it was also always only meant to be a one-shot that I just sort of continued, and with that came a lot of anxiety. Typically, I don't set off writing anything without an endgame in mind, and while I always had ideas for this little story, it sort of constantly evolved based on what Ben and Rey wanted to do, haha. I hope you're as happy with the ending as I am, and again, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> \+ I am still writing some other stuff if you're interested! I have a current WIP that will be much longer than this quick fic; a Miyazaki-inspired fantasy/arranged marriage AU, and I'm also working on a Reylogan story as well.
> 
> \+ A big shout-out to supporters of this story, who encouraged me to keep writing it and see where it took me: MidnightBlueFox, LoveofEscapism, Avidvampirehunter, Reylocalligraphy, Dalzo, and all of the incredible Reylo fam on Tumblr and from the Reylo Writing Den... you all know who you are, and I love having your support and friendship! You truly make my days brighter as a writer and as a person, so thank you so much.
> 
> May the Force and sexy dreams of a redeemed Ben Solo be with you all! Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo.
> 
> Till the tooth-rotting epilogue,
> 
> ~ RebelRebel


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could've discovered his last secret from her — but, thankfully, that remained safely hidden, sitting snug inside a small box in his jacket pocket. And, if all went to plan, it would stay that way till the end of the weekend. 
> 
> Or at least until they got off the plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a million years and I'm sorry! This sugary sweet epilogue is dedicated to Avidvampirehunter, who has supported this story so much and gave me so many ideas for it. Thank you, girl! <3<3<3 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy. :D Thank you so much for reading!

 

_About 2 Years Later_

 

It was a short flight to Vegas from Los Angeles, but somehow, Rey still managed to fall asleep. 

Ben didn't mind, though. He liked her head resting on his shoulder, and he liked the way her eyelashes fluttered as she slept. He even liked her occasional soft snore. It was easy to like pretty much everything about Rey.

Love did that; softened a person’s flaws. He knew it softened all of his.

The only problem was, with the way she was sleeping on his right now, he had a hard time reaching his bag, which was nestled safely under the seat in front of him per the airline’s rules.

And he was dying to finish the book he’d brought...

Carefully, he snaked his left arm down, trying to reach the top of his bag — if he could just snag the paperback he'd stuffed into it before they'd left...

For once pleased to be blessed with long limbs, he unzipped the outer pocket. He had to extend his hand just a bit further, almost moving Rey on his right, but — _there!_  — his fingers brushed soft, cheap paper. Deftly, he slipped the small book out of the pocket, pulling it free between his thumb and pointer finger.  

"Peanuts, sir?"

Ben jumped. Rey's head thumped a little against his shoulder, and she mumbled a little in her sleep, blinking bleary eyes open. Quickly, Ben flipped the paperback over in his lap so she couldn't read the title. He could feel his ears already burning.

"Whatsamatter, Ben?"

"Sorry," he murmured. He glanced to the left, giving a quick upturn of the lips to the flight attendant still waiting for his response.

"Uh, sure," he muttered. 

"Two?" she asked, eyes appraising the pretty woman stirring on his shoulder.

"More like seven," he said, a smile blooming across his lips, "But yeah, two is good. Thank you."

The attendant handed him two shiny foil packets of peanuts, then smiled again before moving onto the row behind theirs.

"Don't think I didn't hear that, Solo," Rey mumbled sleepily.

"Go back to sleep," he said, careful not to look at the book still sitting in his lap, "I'll guard your peanuts."

Rey yawned, raising her head from his shoulder, and embarrassment crept down his ears and flushed across his face.

"Nah, we'll land soon. I just needed a cat nap. Plus, I want to see the lights when we — Ben? What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing."

"Something is," Rey said, hazel eyes now awake and too-shrewd as she took in the blush staining his cheeks. 

"No, really, I was just — ”

“Were you reading?”

He winced as she picked up the paperback and turned it over to read the title, preparing himself for —

“Oh my god. _The Desire of the Red Echo_? You're still reading these?” 

Unsurprisingly, a smile was playing at her lips, threatening to spill out. She kept glancing back and forth between him and the book cover; it was especially obvious what the book was thanks to the woman being bridal carried by a dark warrior on the cover. 

“Yes,” he groaned, covering his face with his hand.

Her smile burst forth like a wave, transforming her face and falling from her lips as laughter.

“You’re awful,” he deadpanned, snatching the book back. He bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed but somewhat relieved that at least _this_ secret was finally out.

After all, she could've discovered his last secret from her — but, thankfully, that remained safely hidden, sitting snug inside a small box in his jacket pocket. And, if all went to plan, it would stay that way till the end of the weekend. 

Or at least until they got off the plane.

"I love you," Rey said sweetly, covering his hand with hers, "And your guilty pleasure for erotica."

"I mean, you're the beneficiary," he grumbled, but he still gifted her a soft smile. 

"You're so right," she winked, giving him a once-over. She peered back out of the airplane window.

"I'm so excited," Rey beamed, "I can't believe this is our first real vacation together. Thank you so much."

"You deserve it, sweetheart," Ben replied, "I'm so proud of you."

"I had a head start," she reminded him, "I'd done two years of school before I took my break."

"Doesn't matter," he said, "You still went back, and you still finished. An engineering degree, no less. You're amazing." 

This time, it was Rey's turn to blush.

"I guess for that I have to forgive you for this too-extravagant graduation present," she teased. 

"Again, you deserve it," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. She shivered slightly at the touch.

"And now I can't wait till we land." 

Her murmur was soft. Ben inhaled sharply.

"Me either," he agreed. 

Thankfully, they didn't have to wait long — within fifteen minutes, the plane made its descent (Rey _oohing_ and _aahing_ over all the lights, as promised) and they were walking out of the tunnel, arm in arm. By the time they'd meandered through the terminal and snagged a cab to their hotel, the little box in Ben's jacket was burning a hole in his chest.

Suddenly, he realized there was no way in hell he could wait till the end of the weekend. He didn't even know if he could wait till they got out of the damn car.

He managed it, though. The cab pulled up in front of the Bellagio, and they piled out, Ben's hands sweating so much he didn't dare touch her in case she asked him what was wrong. 

As the cab pulled away, Rey turned around in a full circle, taking in all the sights, lights, and people milling around them.

"Wow," she said, "It's so _alive_."

She stopped when she saw him staring at her, gripping the ends of his jacket tight.

"Ben? What is it?"

Slowly, he knelt in front of her, wrapping his hands around her hips to steady himself. They shook.

When he met her eyes, they looked wet, and he smiled at her — the one she liked, with teeth.  

"Rey..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank you all again for reading and supporting this story. I appreciate the feedback and love you've all given so much! Thank you thank you thank you. <3 <3 <3
> 
> If you're interested in reading any other WIPs I'm currently working on, I have two — a Miyazaki-inspired fantasy/arranged marriage AU, and a Reylogan Heist story. You can also say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo.
> 
> I said this last time, but may the Force and sexy dreams of a redeemed Ben Solo be with you all! Thank you again.
> 
> ~ RebelRebel

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr @rebelrebelreylo!


End file.
